Realizzata
by lackeysa
Summary: S/V - Season 3 - Ties up all the loose ends from The Telling, including Vaughn's ring, Sydney's whereabouts & Rambaldi. ***FINAL CHAPTER IS NOW UP**
1. The Next 2 Minutes

Note:  _Italics (mostly) denote thoughts._

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CHAPTER ONE – THE NEXT 2 MINUTES

_"Syd... since that night... you were missing. You've been missing for almost two years."_

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Sydney was silent.

"You… you have no idea what we went through – trying to find you.  We traced every lead we could think of, no matter how weak, and always came up short."  Vaughn rushed to fill the void.  "We thought Sloane had…"

"Stop!"  Sydney finally found her voice. "_Tell me… _about the _ring_," she demanded, her tone low and hard.

"What?  Sydney, it isn't what you think!"  he cried.  Less than two minutes into their conversation and she was making him completely lose his train of thought.  He needed to explain to her…

"You're married," she stated flatly.

"Syd, please listen," he begged, "after you disappeared… I lost it – I just lost it.  Jack and I did everything we could…"

"ARE YOU MARRIED?" 

Vaughn took a ragged breath and released it into one word… "Yes."

As soon as the word left his lips Vaughn felt a hard smack across the left side of his face.  He reflexively closed his eyes and didn't move until he heard a choked sob coming from the woman now crumpled on the floor in front of him.  Murmurs of "I'm sorry" and "How could you" were interspersed with pulsating breaths and guttural moans that sounded more like they came from a wild animal than the frail person whose pain he had helped cause.

_This can't be happening,_ he thought.  _She's alive.  We're together.  Why can't I get this right?  Come on, Vaughn, pull it together.  But he could never put together a coherent sentence when she was in pain.  The only thing left for him to do was rely on instinct._

"Shh… Sydney…  It's alright.  It'll be alright.  Please, just listen to me.  Please let me explain."  They stayed huddled in between their two chairs, on the grubby, matted, hotel room floor for what seemed like an eternity.  

Suddenly she pushed him away with a glare that felt like she had just sucked out his soul.

"Tell me!  Tell me how this is alright!  One of my best friends was replaced by a double - who lived in my house and nearly killed my other best friend – all set up by my mother and the man intent on destroying my life in their bizarre quest for some lunatic's idea of the future!  I don't remember the past 2 years _of my life.  And to top it all off, the… the love of my life is married to someone else… how is this alright?"  _

She stopped and sat, panting for breath.  Sydney jerked her glance downward, waiting for this man - the man she had believed would have been her husband by this point in her life - to respond.  She'd never told him she loved him… what better time then two minutes after two years since the last time she saw him?  Nothing made sense anymore, anyway, so what did it matter if she made a fool of herself… she could blame it on the amnesia later.

"Syd.  Syd, look at me."  Vaughn gently placed his index finger under her chin and raised it so he could look in her eyes.

"I love you, too."

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	2. Swallow

CHAPTER TWO – SWALLOW

Sydney couldn't speak.  _How?  What?  She wanted to ask, but her throat just wouldn't cooperate.  __Did he just say what I thought he said?  She forced herself to swallow hard and breathe three deep, slow breaths.  _

"Wh-what did you say?"  She looked up at his unwavering gaze, not believing her ears.

"Sydney, I said I love you.  I've always loved you.  That didn't just stop – not even after two years."  Vaughn shook his head, knowing the worst was yet to come.  "Will you just listen to me now?  Will you please let me explain?"

She numbly nodded her head, allowing Vaughn to pull her back up into her chair.  He paced in front of her, struggling for his own words.

"Like I tried to explain before, that night – the night you fought Allison – I came back to pick you up for Santa Barbara.  I walked in and saw the mess everywhere…"  He paused, reliving the gruesome destruction the fight between Sydney and the person imitating her roommate had left.  

"I saw her on the floor, but she wasn't responsive.  I looked everywhere and found Will…" Sydney's sucked in a sharp gasp at the mention of her friend, remembering the horror she had found – Will in the bathtub, dripping blood – just like Danny.  Vaughn nodded, seeing the same picture in his head, and continued.

"He was unconscious, but still alive.  Allison had stabbed him in the abdomen with a kitchen knife, but missed the important organs and blood vessels."  Seeing Sydney's horrified expression, he quickly spoke to ease her apprehension.  "The medics got there quickly, pumped him up with O-neg, and took him straight to the CIA hospital.  He woke up the next day and it didn't take much physical therapy to get him up and around."

Glancing up at her relieved expression, Vaughn summoned the courage to go on.  

"I looked all around the apartment.  I knew you had to have fought the double – Will didn't have the training to put up that kind of fight with a trained agent – I just couldn't find you anywhere."  His voice rose, recalling the panic of that night.  

"I called Jack, but he was still recovering from his encounter with Sloane.  A forensics team from the agency came in and did a work up on your place.  They found… your blood… all over…"  He closed his eyes and scrunched his forehead as he rubbed it tiredly.  "But there was a concentration next to a shattered mirror in the same room where we found Allison.  Your gun was there, but you weren't…"

"When Will woke up, he told us who Francie really was.  And when she… I mean, Allison, woke up…"

"No!"  Sydney whispered the exclamation with a desperate look on her face.

"Your shots weren't fatal, and when we found her, we still thought she was Francie.  Once Will explained the situation, we needed Allison to figure out what may have happened to you.  When she was coherent, we found… ways… to get her to talk."  He smiled weakly, "It turns out genetic doubles have a few more weaknesses – dependencies – than your average spy.  Under pressure she told us about your fight… Eventually we determined she was telling the truth when she said the last she recalled was you shooting her."

Sydney nodded, "That's the last thing I remember, too.  So, what happened?  Did Sark know anything?"

"No," Vaughn shook his head and resumed pacing behind her.  "We tried everything.  I ran myself and everyone I saw ragged for weeks.  Both Jack and Will were out in the field, both before they were fully recuperated, and Will without a clue as to what he was doing.  A contact of a contact of a contact reported seeing you in a church in Munich.  Then we heard something in Caracas, and then in Okinawa… it just kept going on and on."

He stopped and looked at her.  _Yes, she's really here.  Ok, here we go_.  

"I stopped taking care of myself.  I wasn't eating and I was waking myself up with stronger stuff than coffee.  There just wasn't time…  And then… they…"

He paused.  Breathing in the deep, slow, and rhythmic manner his study in martial arts had trained him to; he remembered the worst moment in his life.

"You were dead," he hoarsely whispered.  Even though she was here, now off her chair and standing in front of him, the pain of that moment would never be gone from his heart's memory.  She wrapped her arms around his neck. He allowed himself to take comfort in the fact that she was just there, with him, and he held her closer and tighter.  

"In Tijuana… there was a body… unidentifiable… your locket…"  He broke down, reclutching her tighter to him between heart-wrenching sobs.  She held him, stroking his hair.  She wanted to sooth him, but she still needed answers.  One answer in particular.

"Vaughn, shh…  It wasn't me.  I'm right here."

His head whipped up as she spoke.  "But Syd, I didn't know that!  After eight months of dead ends, this was the only tangible piece of evidence we had discovered… and it said you were dead!"  Vaughn's arms were waving frantically as he moved erratically around the room.  "I couldn't take it.  Jack never believed, and I didn't want to, but I couldn't keep on with the searching.  It was literally and figuratively killing me."

"I needed to get out."  He stopped, looking her full in the face, with an expression Sydney couldn't quite identify.  "A year ago I requested a deep-cover assignment.  They sent me here – to Hong Kong…"  He stopped again, turning away from her and staring at the floor.

"Vaughn…?  Michael, what is it?"

"Sydney, I know I don't need to explain to you the specifics of a swallow mission…"

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	3. Running

CHAPTER THREE – RUNNING

Vaughn's mind was running a mile a minute, not realizing what was also streaming from his mouth.  As much as he wanted to keep her from the hurt that would inevitably come from his confession, once he began it took on a life of its own.  

"With all the arms dealing the Chinese Triad had been doing with North Korea, the NSA decided it was time to infiltrate.  As it turned out, one of the organization's leaders had a daughter, Jie, who loved everything Western.  On one of her trips to the states, the CIA had me initiate contact."

"Another deep cover agent with a New York syndicate introduced me to Jie as his associate.  My cover was as a freelance arms and intelligence broker for American and Western European powers.  I intrigued her."

Vaughn remembered details he couldn't tell her.  Jie had been more than intrigued with him.  Seduction had never been difficult for him… before.  In the numbness that had followed Sydney's apparent death, he was able to say things and act in ways he'd never imagined possible.  For nearly a month, she couldn't get enough of him, and he made sure she believed he felt the same.  He lavished her with attention and gifts, but left enough of a veil shrouding his work and "life" to keep her wondering about his intentions.

"When it was time for her to return to Hong Kong, she asked me to come with her.  I met her father, who apparently felt I could be useful to his operation.  When we told him we wanted to get married, he didn't object."

The truth of the matter was, Kin En Kai was more than livid with his daughter's selection of husband.  Americans were not to be trusted, but En Kai spoiled his daughter considerably and would do nearly anything to keep her content.  He checked Vaughn's, now Erik Vargas's, story and discovered his extensive contacts both in American and French mafia.

Determined to take advantage of any untapped avenues for potential revenue, En Kai laid a series of increasingly revolting "tests" before Vaughn.  Vaughn's scruples had been left shattered with the broken glass in Sydney's apartment.  Kidnapping… torture… murder… nothing had been too extreme.

En Kai was impressed with the ruthlessness "Vargas" showed in action, and was even more impressed with how that ruthlessness seemed to instantly disappear around Jie.  In truth, it was only that same steeliness Vaughn had become that allowed him to imitate an infatuated fiancé.  Vaughn knew it was two acts of the same play.  If he had allowed himself an ounce of feeling, he would never have been able to complete his first main mission objective.

"I began working for the Triad under En Kai, and five months ago Jie and I married in Shanghai."

Throughout his entire tirade, Vaughn had never looked up from the floor in front of him.  _What did I just do?  He needed to see her reaction, but he couldn't bear to turn around.  __At least she hasn't hit me… or killed me.  His unwavering downward gaze confirmed the feeling that his feet were still attached, even though he couldn't feel them.  He kept waiting, but heard only silence._

"Syd…?"

No response.  Suddenly he felt a puff of warm air move through his now-rumpled hair, and he knew…

She was gone.

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Sydney let the door swing loosely behind her as she flew down the dark hallway.  Running for Sydney was always full-out – long strides, pumping arms, and quick, shallow breaths.  She had no idea where to go, but she knew she couldn't stay in that room with him any longer.

She continued running down the dank alleyway, splashing in puddles left from recent storms.  Luckily, the safehouse hotel was far from the city center, so there were no prying tourist eyes to follow her.  The only people she passed were equally eager to avoid notice as herself.

After looping around a few blocks and doubling back twice, Sydney slowed to a walk, reflexively keeping her head down with her hair obscuring her profile.  Her eyes darted all around, searching for a place out of view to sit and digest all the new information swirling around in her head.  She spotted a set of dumpsters near what appeared to be the back door of a club.  She crept in between them and sank against the wall.

_Swallow mission!_  Never in her life would Sydney have taken Vaughn for the kind of agent who could…  He was the steadfast, ethical one.  _How could he do this?_  

Sydney always knew there was the possibility a mission of seduction could affect her life somehow.  In her line of work, that was always a risk.  She'd imagined scenarios where Sloane would send someone in to bait her – win her trust – just as her mother had done with her father.  She'd mentally placed herself in Irina's shoes more than once – trying to understand why she had done what she did.  The thought had even crossed Sydney's mind that perhaps using herself as a lure may have been the quickest and simplest way to get to Sark.  

But never… never had any of her scenarios played out this way.  _Vaughn is married!  _This cannot be happening.  The Michael Vaughn I love would never lower himself to that level – no matter what._  But perhaps, she realized, he was no longer the man she had loved…  _

It didn't take much to see the difference the death of her fiancé and two years had made in her personality.  No question she was a different woman than when Danny had proposed.  There were times she thought she was going crazy – that she was sure any semblance of morality had vacated her being.  But she never seriously thought she could be capable of whoring herself for the CIA or anyone else.

_Ok, Syd.  You need a plan._  _You've got to get out of here – figure out what's happened.  She slowly pushed herself up and looked around.  The only people she could see were a couple of teenage girls on the nearby corner, clearly dressed to be sold.  __That'll work, she thought._

Sydney waited until one of the girls climbed into the passenger seat of a nearby Silver Jaguar and drove away.  Moving slowly, Sydney never gave the remaining girl a chance to run before expertly slamming her fist down on the back of the girl's skull and dragging her into the alley.

"I'm sorry," Sydney whispered to her unconscious victim, "but I've got no money, no car, and I need to get out of here without being recognized."  She quickly stripped off her grungy sweater and pants, replacing them with the short skirt, tight halter top, and knee-high leather boots that were on the girl.  

Rifling through the girl's handbag, Sydney noticed more scars on her arms that she didn't remember.  Grabbing what money she could find, she ran her fingers through her hair, and tossed the purse on top of the lifeless form now wrapped in Sydney's clothes.

"Find a new job," Sydney mumbled as she crept into the nearby door.  

She was right, the door did lead to a club – and not exactly a high-class one, at that.  She maneuvered her way to the bar and ordered a drink in her best Russian-accented Chinese.  _At least I can remember some things… As she sipped the brown concoction, Sydney surveyed her surroundings.  The tiny room held significantly more men than women, and the other women seemed to be in the same line of work as her young friend from the alley._

She decided her best bet was to get a car – quickly.  Her gaze landed on a middle-aged man in a dark business suit.  She raised an eyebrow and flashed a smile.  As he rose to join her, Sydney quickly prepped her line.  The bait worked and within minutes the man was leading Sydney outside to his car, parked haphazardly across the street.  

As the man pulled a key from his suit pocket Sydney landed a strong punch to the center of his face.  As he fell to the ground, screaming in pain, she grabbed his keys, unlocked the door, and climbed in.

She hadn't gotten more than three blocks when a gray van came barreling out of a side street and slammed into the passenger side of her car.

Overwhelmed by the rushing in her ears and the cloud in her eyesight, Sydney didn't try to fight as she was pulled from the car and carried into the back of the still-running van.

The last thing she felt was a lurch as the van reversed and then peeled down the empty street.

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	4. Found

CHAPTER FOUR – FOUND

Jack Bristow was seated at a small table in the corner of a basement ristorante near the old city walls in Florence.  A bottle of the house red sat on the table in front of him, untouched.  Jack knew better than to drink in the middle of the day, now – even if everyone around him was partaking in the expected siesta.

The files in front of him were filled with information he had poured over dozens of times.  After the CIA had let Vaughn go deep cover, he realized that finding Sydney was no longer their priority.  Jack had "retired" and continued his search – alone.

Jack had refused to believe that the body the CIA retrieved was his daughter – locket or no locket.  Death by unidentifiable body was simply too easy to fake – as his irritatingly-alive wife was proof.  But, he also realized that tracking Sydney, herself, was not a fruitful endeavor, so he turned all his attentions to Sloane.

He thought about attempting to discover Irina, but she had vanished as thoroughly as Sydney, following her Spiderman antics that night in Mexico City.  Sloane, however, kept popping his head up every chance he got.  Still intent on the idea of a partnership, Arvin kept up regular, although vague, contact with Jack.  

So, Jack followed him all over the world.  Jack's information always allowed him to arrive in time to witness the destruction that inevitably followed in Sloane's wake, but he never seemed to be able to catch up or get ahead.  It was a frustrating feeling to which Jack was never able to adjust.  

Jack was supposed to meet a contact this evening with new intel.  In the mean time, he sat, empty gaze set upon the pages before him.  By four in the afternoon, nearly everyone around him had returned to their jobs.  He left enough Euros on the table to more than cover his meal and walked out into the bright, sunlit street.

He turned to his left and walked through the crumbling city gates.  Jack sighed heavily as he looked at the long flight of stairs up the hill.  His age had begun to catch up with him lately.  He wasn't sure if it was because he had spent more time on planes than working out, or if it was something more… mental.  Either way, he began to climb.

Ten minutes later Jack stood still at the top of the stairs, catching his breath.  He still had time to kill before he needed to meet his contact, so he walked over to the piazza, taking in the city view.  The sun was just starting to set, and it cast a shadow over the buildings across the river.  

At the sound of laughter he turned and noticed a group of teenagers lounging on the steps beneath the replica of Michelangelo's _David.  One of the boys had a guitar and was fumbling with the chords to some song.  __How on earth did he lug that thing up this hill?  They were loud and dressed in grungy jeans.  __Americans…_

Jack had nearly ceased being an American in all his travels.  He had given up his apartment in L.A. almost a year and a half before.  He slept mostly on planes and only went back to the states when he had information indicating Sloane was there, which wasn't often.  

Another burst of laughter from the young group prompted Jack to remember his daughter at that age.  Sydney was away at boarding school nearly all the time, and when she was home, he wasn't.  _Did she ever get to study abroad?  Jack searched his memory, and came up lacking.  _

Even though they had gotten closer in the months preceding her disappearance, there was so much of her life he had missed… so much he didn't know.  He _had to find her._

Checking his watch, Jack realized it was time to move.  He walked back past the stairs and continued on the sidewalk up the side of the sloping mountain.  

San Miniato al Monte… his favorite church in Florence, if Jack had ever thought enough about it.  _There's something to be said for a Saint who gets decapitated, picks up his own head, and walks all the way back up this incredibly steep hill - before they built the stairs - just to spite his murderers.  As Jack neared the entrance, he could hear the monks chanting their evening vespers.  He stepped into the cool, dark basilica and made his way to the fifth pew from the back._

He didn't have to wait long.  After a couple minutes, a man clothed in white robes sat down next to him.

"Am I interrupting your prayers, my son?"

"I've always found it interesting that priests feel comfortable calling every man 'son.'  Particularly men who are at least twice their age," Jack replied.

The priest smiled softly, with a small nod of his head.  "My contact has found something we thought would interest you."

"Sydney!  You found my daughter?"

"No," the priest replied, passing Jack a manila envelope, "Unfortunately not.  However, this may be just as important."

Jack opened the envelope and pulled out several 8x10 color photographs.

"Yesterday morning, Arvin Sloane was discovered in a villa being renovated near Fiesole.  He had been shot multiple times.  He is dead."

Jack shook his head, taking in the bloody sight in the photos.  No doubt, that was Arvin Sloane, looking very, very deceased.

"Do we know what happened?  Who killed him?" Jack inquired.

"Nothing is certain, but we found a gun with prints.  Jack…" the priest looked up toward the massive mosaic of Christ in front of them. 

"Jack… the prints belonged to Sydney."

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Sydney was emerging from her hazy sleep.  She could feel herself being carried.  She tried to open her eyes, but her lids felt unbelievably heavy.

Finally, she felt a hard surface underneath her.  She forced her eyes open and looked directly into the face of her kidnapper.  He was an Asian man she didn't recognize, but considering her missing two years of memory, he could easily have been either an enemy or a friend.

Sydney managed to mumble a question, "What do you want with me?"

The man looked down at her, clearly shocked that she was awake.  He left her in the corner of the small, empty room and moved toward the door.  He surprised Sydney by replying to her inquiry in perfect English.

"I honestly do not know.  I was only told that we wanted you found."

Sydney winced as the heavy metal door slammed and the deadbolt slid into place.

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	5. Being Watched

CHAPTER FIVE – BEING WATCHED

Sydney took a slow, deep breath, trying to force her head to clear.  Squeezing her eyes shut and popping them wide open, she surveyed her surroundings.

She was curled in the corner of a small, solid-cement holding cell.  The only light fell from several 3-foot by half-inch openings in the ceiling.  The walls were smooth, broken only by the heavy blue steel of the door across from where she sat – even the corners were rounded.

On the ceiling, dead center, Sydney noticed a small, halfway-imbedded, black-glass orb.  _Camera.  Good to know she was being watched.  Nothing in the room could have been used as a weapon – there wasn't anything in the room…  _I guess it's time to sit and wait.__

Sydney sighed and pushed herself back so she was sitting upright, supported by the curve of the wall.  Pulling her legs up to her chest, she clasped her arms in front of her shins and rested her chin on her knees.

She tried to calm herself with breathing exercises, but now that her mind was awake, it was trying to catalogue all the new information it had recently received.

_Francie__, dead…  A.G. Doran, not dead...  Vaughn, married…  Will, not dead…  Dad… _

Where was Jack?  Sydney was certain her father would want to know that she had been found.  Why hadn't Vaughn offered any information on him?  Surely, he was alright… he _had to be.  Sydney didn't think her brain could comprehend it if __both of the men she loved were taken away._

_Dad's fine… Mom…_ Vaughn hadn't given any information on her either.  _Although,_ she admitted, _I didn't exactly give him much opportunity for lengthy narratives._  Except the one.

_Jie__… Jie Vaughn.  No, wait! –  Jie Vargas.  Sydney felt a little easier knowing that Vaughn's wife wasn't "Mrs. Vaughn."  After his confession of love (__That didn't just stop – not even after two years…) Sydney had allowed herself a moment's belief that _that_ title was still reserved for her.  _

_If your marriage license is under an alias, is the marriage still legal?_ she wondered, smirking involuntarily.  She'd have to ask Jack, sure he'd been curious about the subject at one point.  But, did it really matter?  There was only one important fact to Sydney.

Tonight Vaughn would be home with _her…sleeping in __their bed._

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Erik Vargas stood staring at the small black and white monitor of the room on the opposite side of the blue steel door.  The love of his life was huddled into a corner like a wounded animal.  _This is my fault.  He was concentrating so closely that he didn't hear the shuffling feet stopping next to him._

"Who is she?"

Everyone in the organization had always addressed Vargas in English.  After weeks of speaking Chinese to his associates, only to have answers returned in his native language, he had given up.  Chinese was a very mellifluous language – extremely nuanced – where the slightest upper or lower pitch of a single syllable altered the entire meaning of the phrase.  It was nearly impossible to get it right without being a native-speaker.

Kin En Kai's visit was not unexpected.  He was always aware of what went on in his business.  He reminded Vaughn of Irina in his soft manner of probing those around him for important information.  Vargas, however, was prepared.  He turned to face his employer.

"She's the daughter of an important contact.  Escaped from a mental institution in Tai Pei – I have no idea how she managed to get here.  My contact put word out of her disappearance a couple weeks ago.  She turned up this evening in a hotel in town."

Vaughn had learned that the simplest thing to do when dealing with his father-in-law was to keep the lies as close to the truth as possible.  He returned his focus to the screen.

"She is completely delusional.  When I went to recover her from the hotel, I discovered that not only does she believe it to be 2003, but she thinks I am someone called 'Michael.'  When I tried to explain who I was, she became agitated.  Apparently this 'Michael' is someone she was involved with.  When she saw my wedding band, she went mad and ran off again.  I put out orders to have her found and brought here."

En Kai studied Vargas carefully through a sideways glance.  "This contact must be valuable."

Vargas nodded confirmation.  "Former American CIA.  He went freelance when his daughter got sick.  I would like to keep her here until I can inform him of her retrieval."

En Kai's silence on the subject was sufficient assent for Vargas.

The older man turned to leave.  "Will you and Jie be over for dinner tomorrow?"

Vargas jerked his head up, apparently startled by something.  "Of course."

"Until then."

--------

En Kai lifted the heavy black telephone receiver up to his ear and spoke softly.

"I'd like the tapes from the holding cell over the next few days stored and delivered to me once she is retrieved.   Yes…  And make sure he is being watched."

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	6. Through Doors

CHAPTER SIX – THROUGH DOORS

Jack wasted no time in getting to the abandoned villa where Sloane was found.  When he left the church, it took him 20 minutes to walk back down the mountain, across the river, and through the rapidly darkening city.  When he arrived at the train station, he impatiently waited in the taxi queue, wondering why he hadn't bothered to rent a car.

Once his cab had left the city and was winding up the road to Fiesole, his apprehension began to intensify.  _She's alive… or was few days ago.  The prints were the first solid piece of evidence anyone had found belonging to Sydney since Tijuana._

_But where is she now?  She could still be in __Italy__, but I doubt it.  __Sydney_ knows enough to keep moving when she's in danger._  And if Sydney did, in fact, kill Arvin Sloane, then she was definitely in danger._

The car was approaching the isolated restaurant they were headed for, so Jack collected his things.  He paid the driver and got out.  After watching the cab drop from sight, he turned and began walking back down the sloping road – off to the side, just out of the overgrown brush.  

About 50 meters past a bus stop, Jack saw the narrow gravel entryway he was searching for and turned in.  The villa was set far back from the road, obscured from view by a mass of tall, thin trees that rustled in the night breezes.  The house itself was large and imposing with no lights showing either the interior or the scaffolding-covered façade.  Jack moved around to the side of the building and entered through the gardener's door.

It didn't take long to find the room from the photographs.  Jack's small flashlight illuminated the dried blood that was splattered on the walls and pooled on the floor.

The body had been taken to the morgue, and the gun was now in a plastic bag in Jack's canvas briefcase, but nothing else in the place had been moved.  _Thank God for the Carabinieri.  Italy's notoriously-corruptible police had "conveniently" left the house untouched at his contact's request.  _

Jack wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for, but he knew he had to find _something_.  After pulling open every drawer in the desk next to the spot where Sloane had died and finding nothing but landscaping blueprints and directions in Italian for the renovators, he moved to the other portions of the house.  

Most of the other rooms were empty, including the expansive kitchen.  Jack noticed this was the only room with wood floors instead of tiles made from the local marble.  Upon closer inspection, it was apparent that the cracks of the floor barely concealed a trap door.

Wedging his fingers into the open space and yanking the flooring up, Jack was greeted by the scent of cool earth and aging oak.  He swung the door all the way back and laid it flat on the ground.  Ducking his head through the door as he cautiously descended the creaking staircase, Jack swung the flashlight's beam around what appeared to be a root cellar.

Directly at the bottom of the stairs sat several bushel baskets containing shriveled potatoes, turnips, and what appeared to be onions.  Jack's feet landed on the solid dirt floor and he slowly moved to his left, inspecting the six raised barrels lining the walls.  He ran his fingers over the dusty labels… _Brunello__, 1956…  Chianti, '58…  Riserva, '56…  He moved past the aging wine and finally found what he had been searching for._

Tucked against the wall behind the last barrel was a small wooden table and chair.  Ignoring the glass oil lamp on the table, Jack used his flashlight to inspect the heavy pages, covered in a familiar handwriting, that were stacked neatly on the chair.  He picked up the stack and set it on the table as he took the chair.  

Page after page of antiquated Italian and corresponding English translations – poems, drawings, narrations – but none appeared to be of any immediate consequence.  He stopped on a page that was slightly longer than the others.  Its ends were torn and it looked like the paper had been forcibly flattened – as though it had been ripped from an old-fashioned scroll.  

_This is impossible!  _Jack's eyes were wide, staring at the page in front of him.  

He suddenly shook his head and stood up straight.  After shoving the papers into his briefcase, Jack grabbed his cell phone and turned to leave.  He climbed back through the trap door, closing it behind him, and dialed a long-memorized number as he walked out of the house.

"Director Kendall's office…" came the high-pitched, feminine voice through the line.

"This is Jack Bristow I need…"

"Mr. Bristow, Director Kendall has been trying to locate you all morning.  I'll put you right through."

_Why would __Kendall__ be contacting me? Jack wondered.  He didn't have long think about it._

"JACK!" came a familiar roar, "Where have you been?  Retiring is one thing… but not leaving us a way to find you… _that is _not_ acceptable…"_

"Excuse me, _Director_ Kendall," Jack settled into his familiar steely tone, "but I no longer feel the need to meet every beck and call for the Agency that gave up on my daughter.  I only called to let you know that Arvin Sloane is dead and that Sydney appears to be alive."

A small crackling was the only response Jack received, until...

"We know."  Kendall spoke quietly now, "Well… we weren't aware of Sloane's death, but Jack…"  He sighed heavily into the receiver.

"Sydney has been found.  She phoned us from Hong Kong.  We sent Agent Vaughn to retrieve her and put her on a plane back to L.A., but they both went missing from the safehouse and we haven't heard from either of them in almost 12 hours."

--------

For the second time in 10 hours, Vaughn stood outside the Sydney's holding cell, watching her on the monitor.  He felt a small amount of relief that she appeared to be sleeping.  Before leaving last night, he had made sure she was taken care of – as much as someone who was being held prisoner could be – with food, a shower, new clothes, blankets and a pillow.  

Last night, all he had wanted was to lock himself in the room with her and beg until she forgave him.  He had not looked in her eyes since explaining to her his… situation… with Jie.  There was no need, really.  He knew exactly what he would find – her soft brown eyes would turn to stone when she saw him.  She would not be able to forgive him… certainly not now… maybe not ever.

So, after En Kai had come and gone, instead of facing Sydney and her stony glare, Erik Vargas went home to his wife.  He slipped into their bed just before 2a.m.  She barely mumbled as he whispered in her ear that he was home.  Physically being at home, however, didn't keep his mind from returning to work and the person waiting there.

By 5:30 in the morning, he was back – now alone – in the hallway.  _I couldn't just stay here, and it was too late to call Jie.  I don't want to blow my cover by raising suspicions about my fidelity._  But, even the most compelling excuses – claims of concerns for Sydney's safety… and his – were just excuses.  He knew the real reason he had not walked through that steel door last night.  

"I am completely spineless."  He admitted under his breath.  

With a rub of his forehead, Vaughn flipped the monitor off, closed the panel door and locked it.  _No need for anyone else to see this.  He silently slid back the deadbolt and placed his hand on the doorknob.  After two quick, puffed breaths, he yanked back the door and stepped into the room.  As the heavy metal slammed shut behind him, Sydney's sleeping form shot upright._

As the confusion cleared from her face, her eyes widened, filled with surprise and curiosity.  A moment later, however…

_Ah-ha… stone…_ He knew the look, although she had rarely bestowed it on him.  She usually reserved it for people she truly despised… like Sloane… or, occasionally… Kendall.

"Vaughn."  Sydney's low growl finally broke their silence.

He stepped directly to the center of the room.  Without moving his head, Vaughn looked pointedly first at her, then shifted his eyes directly above him, where the camera was located.  _Get it, Syd?_

"Sydney… you know very well who I am.  We've been over this.  My name is Erik, remember?"

Sydney slowly nodded her understanding, but said nothing.  Vaughn took another step closer and knelt so they were eye-to-eye.

"Sydney, I'm trying to locate your father.  When I do, I'll let him know that you are safe and that he can come pick you up.  Until then, you're going to stay here, with me.  Is that alright?"  

Vaughn's placating tone was enough to let Sydney know something was up.  She again nodded softly and spoke tentatively, "That's fine.  I'd like to see my father."

"We'll let you know as soon as he arrives.  In the meantime, is there anything else you'd like?  Water?  More blankets?"  He quickly asked, glad she was playing along.

She paused, lips pursed and mind racing, "I could use a trip to the restroom, if you don't mind."

Vaughn's only visible reaction was a strong blink when he realized what she was doing.  _Smart girl… she must have checked the bathroom for cameras last night.  He knew there was no surveillance in the crude restroom, and assented._

"I'll take you there now, if you like."  He stood and offered her a hand up.

After a moment's hesitation, Sydney slid her slender, smooth fingers across his palm.   Her legs wobbled beneath her as she stood, and Vaughn instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her.

For a moment they were face-to-face, lips just inches apart, each feeling the shallow breaths of the other on their face.  

"Steady there…" he whispered, sliding his hands to her hips, "You alright?"

Sydney nodded timidly and stepped back, lowering her gaze.  "I'm fine.  Just a little tired, that's all."

Vaughn straightened himself and turned, moving towards the door.  He held the door open and turned back to where Sydney still stood.

"Shall we?"

-------


	7. Getting Her Home

CHAPTER SEVEN – GETTING HER HOME

Jack's silence only lasted a split-second.

"You sent Vaughn?  I thought he had gone deep cover."  Jack remembered how his one remaining partner in the search for Sydney had tried to explain his decision.  

Vaughn had let the strain of the search affect him – he had grown thin, his face was sunken, and his hands were often shaking with tremors.  When he'd come to tell Jack of his plan to "get away," as he had labeled it, he couldn't look the older man in the eye.  Jack had been sure that Weiss or one of Vaughn's other friends had pressured him into moving on.  _I bet they had no idea what Vaughn's idea of "moving on" would consist of._

"Yes, Agent Vaughn is currently in the middle of a deep cover mission."  Kendall's voice brought Jack back to the present.

"He was sent to infiltrate the Chinese Triad operating out of Hong Kong.  When Sydney called us from there, we sent her to the safehouse and used covert channels to instruct Vaughn to meet her there.  He was her former handler and he was nearby.  We thought it would be best."

"So what happened?" Jack pressed.

"Our contact reported that Sydney checked just after 10p.m., local time, and that Vaughn arrived less than 30 minutes later.  The contact left them to get everything prepared with a plane for her flight back to L.A.  When he returned, they had both vanished.  No note – no phone call.  We can't risk exposing Vaughn or his contact by communication for another 48 hours."

"I'm going," was Jack's instant response.  "Give me Vaughn's alias and information.  I can initiate contact as a freelancer without implicating the CIA or compromising his cover."

"I suspected you would feel that way.  But Jack," Kendall warned, "we need her back here.  There's no telling where she's been or who she's been involved with.  We'll have a plane standing by for you both to come back to L.A. immediately."

"Fine," was Jack's clipped answer.  Kendall relayed all of Vargas's pertinent information and gave a last admonition,

"Jack… The people Vaughn has been working with are extremely dangerous.  I'm sure I don't need to tell you to keep as far away from them as possible."

"No, you don't."  Jack paused, "Thank you."

"Just get her home safely, Jack.  Good luck."

Jack snapped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket.  He would head straight for the airport, and intended to be on the next flight to Hong Kong.

---------

Vaughn followed Sydney into the small restroom.  He turned his back to her as he bolted the door from the inside.  He was still facing the door with his hand on the latch when she spoke.

"How did you find me?"

"Sydney," he sighed, grateful she hadn't asked a more difficult question, "the people I work with own most of this city… and have eyes everywhere.  When you took off, I put out your description and ordered your capture.  I couldn't risk you getting hurt or being discovered by enemies."  _And I couldn't risk losing you again.  Not when I've only just found you._

"What is going on?  Why did you wait so long to come to me?  Why were you talking about my father where the camera could hear you?"  Sydney rushed, attempting to hide the most important question amid the others.  _Was it easier to keep me locked up while you went home to a nice, warm – shared – bed?_  Her mind betrayed the bitterness she felt towards him.  

"Syd… what I said about trying to contact your father… that was true.  Last night my… boss… was asking about you.  I told him you were an escaped mental patient – the daughter of an important freelance contact.  En Kai thinks I'm holding you here as a favor to my contact – Jack."

"Oh…" Sydney's mind spun.  _An escaped mental patient?__  Am I really coming across as crazy?  En Kai… isn't that Jie's father?  Vaughn's father-in-law knows who I am?  She pressed him further,_

"Why couldn't you explain this to me last night?  I didn't know who had me.  You let me think I'd been kidnapped… I…" her questions broke off as she choked back a sob.  Her shoulders fell and she turned so he couldn't see her bury her face in her hands.

"Oh, Syd…"  Vaughn's feet moved forward of their own accord.  Once again, he was standing centimeters from the woman he loved.  His only thought was to get her home – to him.  The heat radiating from her body singed his chest and hands as he wrapped them around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She could feel Vaughn's heart pounding against her back and his hot breath on her hair.  Sydney relaxed into him for a moment, then pivoted in his embrace and buried her face into his shoulder.  She gripped tight the sides of his shirt under his black leather jacket as his hands slid up to her back and squeezed her closer.  

As he held her, he stroked the back of her hair.  Whispering low apologies, Vaughn placed tentative kisses on the top of her head.  Gradually, her sobs subsided and she turned pulled her head back to face him.

He looked into her eyes and was stunned by what he saw there.  She was looking at him with a familiar gaze, but not the stony one from minutes before.  Her eyes took him back two and a half years – to their old warehouse-meeting days.  

The look, full of longing and… yes… love, was almost too much.  He lowered his face to hers, almost imperceptibly, then hesitated, gaze flitting from her lips to her eyes and back again… waiting.  

She raised one hand to softly caress his cheek, then pressed her lips to his.  The kiss was full of the same bitter sweetness and longing the two had felt since their meeting the night before.  Sydney closed her eyes, and as she brought her other hand behind his neck to pull him closer, two large tears dropped from her eyelashes and rolled down her face.

Vaughn felt her salty tears wet his own face and softly pulled away.

"Sydney… I…"  He was cut off by the shrill ring of his cell phone.  Vaughn looked at Sydney with regret as she pushed completely away from him.  He turned away from her as he opened the phone and placed it at his ear.

"Yes," his clipped tone answered the call.

"Mr. Vargas… This is Jack Bristow.  I hear you have located my daughter."

--------

A/N:  Thanks to my reviewers:  **gambitslove, ****jandl, ****Kira, ****sunnE1, **Ryanne**, **zrodezina**, & **MyAlias**!  I'm so glad you are enjoying my fic.  **

I promise to keep updating regularly if you'll keep reading & reviewing regularly… Deal?


	8. Mistakes

CHAPTER EIGHT – MISTAKES

"Yes…  Alright.  I will have a car waiting for you when your plane touches down…  I will…  Goodbye."

Vargas finished his conversation with one Bristow and turned to face the other.  She had remained silent throughout the exchange, listening.  He inspected her now – hands grasping the edges of the aging porcelain sink, knuckles white with tension, head hanging down.  She spoke without looking up.

"My father?  He's coming here?"

"Yes," Vaughn replied, "He's on a plane from Italy right now.  It will be arriving in a few hours."

Vaughn paused, waiting to see if Sydney would respond.  She didn't.

"He'll come here to pick you up.  He told me you'll both be returning to L.A.  I assume that's under directive from Kendall… I was supposed to put you on a plane to the States last night, before…"  His voice trailed off, remembering his admission that had caused her to flee.

They sat in silence for a few moments.  Slowly, Sydney raised her head to meet Vaughn's gaze in the mirror.

"Am I to assume that you will not be coming with us?"  Stone-cold Sydney was back again.  The bitterness that had receded when they kissed minutes before had returned with full force.  The prospect of her leaving while carrying that malice towards him was impossible to bear.  He needed her to know… to understand… NOW.  

Vaughn stepped assuredly across the room to where she stood, watching him.  He moved directly behind her, holding her gaze while he opened her vice-grip on the sink.  When her hands were free, he spun her to face him, pinning her elbows to her side so she could not escape.  She averted her gaze and he began to speak.

"Sydney… I love you with everything in me.  I _never want you to doubt that – __ever.  I will do whatever it takes to make you believe me.  I know I've made mistakes…"_

Sydney's head jerked as she returned her hard gaze to his face.  _Mistakes?_  Is he serious?  I'd say that marrying someone else counts as more than a simple 'mistake.'_  She moved her stare back to the floor as he continued._

"I've made a lot of mistakes, but they can be rectified… if you will let me rectify them.  But first, you need to forgive me… can you do that?"  Vaughn's heart was beating wildly now, fearing the answer to his next question.

"Do you love me enough to be patient until I can come back to you?  Because I promise – I will come back to you.  I will come back and spend the rest of my life making this up to you.  Will you let me do that?"

Sydney's heart was thudding in her chest as Vaughn finished his entreaty.  Her face was flushed and she didn't know what to think.  _Can I believe his promise? she wondered.  He'd promised things before… he'd promised to keep her safe… and he didn't._

Her mind was telling her not to believe him – to leave him in Asia with his wife and never look back.  _I can't afford to take this chance._  But her heart was insisting something quite the opposite… _If I don't trust him now, will I ever be able to live with myself… without him?_

She could feel the intensity of Vaughn's stare as it seared onto her downturned face.  Cautiously, she lifted her eyelids to meet it.  As she studied his eyes, she saw the fire that was burning there – for her – stronger than she had ever seen it before.  

Sydney knew he was not lying… and she made her decision.

--------

Jack Bristow clicked his cell phone shut after finishing his conversation with Erik Vargas.  _That was exceptionally strange.  Vaughn really has his cover down cold.  Vaughn clearly believed they were being listened-to, and had spoken accordingly.  Jack said as little as possible, so to not compromise him._

The part that concerned Jack the most was that he hadn't been able to relay his concern for Sydney's safety.  When Vaughn had mentioned an "institution in Tai Pei," Jack understood a cover story had been created for Vargas's superiors.  He could not risk disclosing Sydney's apparent actions in Italy without damaging her cover.  

He knew that Sloane had associates who would be on the hunt for Sydney, if only to ensure their own safety.  Jack had to trust that Vaughn would keep her safe – from everyone – until the plane landed in Hong Kong.

And then there were the other Rambaldi followers – they would likely be after her as well.  The papers Jack had briefly scanned at the villa were unbelievable at best, and terrifying at worst.  It was apparent that they had been wrong in believing that Sydney was not the woman in the prophesy.  He reached under his feet to his briefcase and removed the stiff pages, setting the stack on the tray-table he lowered from the seat-back in front of him.

He quickly flipped to the page where he had left off, scanning it again with a shaking of his head.  _How could they have been so wrong?  Did they translate page 47 improperly?  Was it a fake?_  He turned the page over and started reading the remaining pages.

It appeared that Rambaldi had more than just one page of information on Sydney.  In what looked to be succeeding entries from a diary, the details of his daughter's life were laid out before him.  There were more pictures, dates, events – all unequivocally referring to Sydney.  Her birthday, her mother's "death," the day she was recruited into SD-6.  Jack knew those dates, although he had not discovered the date of her recruitment into SD-6 until months after it had taken place.  

There were also dates Jack wasn't as certain about.  _What happened on October 1, 2001?_  Jack racked his brain, trying to recall his own whereabouts at that time… _Of course – her walk-in to the CIA._  He kept skimming the pages, taking note of the dates he recognized and wishing he was capable of understanding the remaining text on the pages.  

Finally, Jack reached the last page of the journal entries.  He realized that whatever mistakes the U.S. had made in interpreting and attempting to prevent the prophesy were irreversible now.  The page contained only a date and a single line of text.  The date was just three days ago.  The line was "E fine.  E realizzata."__

----------

A/N:  Yea!  More reviews!  

Thanks to megvaughn2003, **twin*muse, ****alexis, ****Sarah88, ****thesheeplover, **Aliasgurl**, & **Skylark** for joining the party!  And to ****Ryanne, ****MyAlias, & **jandl** for their continued praise… I am soooo grateful!**


	9. Beautiful Women

CHAPTER NINE – BEAUTIFUL WOMEN

Michael Vaughn could not breathe.  

He had made what was the most important speech in his life so far, and received no reaction from its audience.  _Come on, Syd… say something…_  He had laid it all out in front of her, asking for her love and forgiveness.  Vaughn decided his prayer should be more specific: _Tell me that you can forgive me… that you will wait for me… that you still love me…  _

His head was swimming and his eyes burned with passion and hope as she looked up at him.  For a moment, he thought she would understand… would let him fix his mistakes…

"Michael," her soft voice struggled out, "Let me go, please…"

Vaughn was stunned.  He could never let her go… hadn't the past two years been enough to prove that to him.  He had attempted to find her – to no avail.  He tried to drown her memory in a drug and alcohol-induced fog – but could not.  Finally, he had tried to flee from everything that reminded him of her – and she had returned from the dead.  

Michael Vaughn was simply incapable of giving Sydney Bristow up… and she is asking him to 'let her go?'  He drew in a small breath just as his chest was about to implode and looked one last time at the beautiful woman who was once his.

"Sydney… I don't think I can do that.  But, if that's really what you want – to leave me – I can't stop you…"

_What?_  Sydney looked at Vaughn's devastated expression with confusion.  A second later, she realized…

"No, Vaughn… no," she struggled against his iron-clad grip on her elbows, making her point, "I just want you to _release me…"  She looked up at him with a small smile, then down at his arms._

"Oh," came his short reply, then again, "Oh!  Sydney, I'm sorry!"  He quickly pulled his hands away from her and stepped back, apologetically.  "I'm so sorry.  Did I hurt…"

Vaughn's apology was cut short by the force of Sydney's body crashing into his own.  

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing a hand through the back of his hair, and pulled him into the most passionate kiss he had ever experienced.  Gone was her softness and uncertainty from before.  Her mouth was firm and commanding, declaring her love as undeniably as he had with words.

After a second's shock, Vaughn joined her frenzy.  He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her into him forcefully.  Their lips did not break contact as he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him.  He took two steps forward and carefully lowered her onto the edge of the sink in front of him.  Their bodies continued pulling and searching each other for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually, their gasping breaths began to slow as their urgency subsided.  Kisses became softer and more lingering.  Finally, Sydney pulled her hands down to rest on his solid arms and laid her head on his chest, listening to the deep beating from within.  They sat – motionless – her head at his heart, and his mouth and nose pressed into her hair.  Vaughn kissed the top of her head once more, then broke the silence:

"I don't know how long this will take."

"I don't care."  She replied firmly before pulling her head up to meet his questioning stare.  "Michael… I love you.  You say that what you have here is a mission.  All missions end.  We'll just have to make sure this one ends as quickly as possible."

She leaned up and gave him a soft, slow, closed-mouth kiss.  "I will wait for you as long as it takes."

---------

Kin En Kai finished listening to the recorded conversation between his son-in-law and the former CIA "contact," Jack Bristow.  On the surface, everything sounded normal – a father desperate to recover his missing daughter.  But something bothered him.

_It's the details…_  In the entire time he had known Vargas, the younger man never gave any more information than was absolutely necessary for the situation at hand.  It was a trait En Kai appreciated in his more important underlings.  But in this phone conversation, Vargas had related particular details –  her mental condition and memory loss, the location of the institution – that should not have been necessary if this Bristow was really the father of the captured young woman.  

His ringing telephone roused En Kai from his reverie.  It was Vargas, explaining that Bristow had been contacted and that his plane would land in a few hours.  He acknowledged the information and disconnected the call without replacing the handset.  After a moment's pause, he lifted his fingers from the switch on the base and dialed another number.

"Yes.  Those tapes… from the holding cell... bring them to my office – now."

He hung up the telephone and relaxed back into his desk chair.  Vargas had never been forthcoming with the names of his contacts.  It had never really mattered, since the jobs were always completed.  But for some reason, this Jack Bristow concerned En Kai.  Perhaps it was that he was former CIA… perhaps it was simply because he was American… perhaps it was the way he did not really seemed concerned about his daughter's well being…

En Kai's mind drifted to his own daughter and what a beautiful woman she had become.  She could test a man's patience, at times, but he loved her anyway.  He still thought of Jie as the vivacious little girl who had to have everything American.  She was so innocent.  He knew he had to protect her at any cost – even from the man she loved… the man she married.

There was just enough time to scan the overnight tapes for anything – interesting – before meeting his new friend Mr. Bristow at the airport.

---------

A young bartender in New Zealand sat staring at the beautiful woman across the room.  It was still slightly early for drinkers… even tourists who seemed always ready to guzzle any concoction with a Maori-sounding name attached to it… so he had little to do but clean glasses and wait.

She sat, alone, at a corner table, scribbling furiously on something.  _There has to be at least fifteen pages of writing there, he thought.  Although she seemed intent, he was sure she was aware of his scrutiny._

She glanced up for a moment, lost in thought, but caught his eye with a smile before returning to her manuscript.  _Damn… she's too old for me_, he admitted to himself as he watched her move a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear.  _She has to be in her fifties, at least.  Hot, though…_

----------

A/N:  Thanks to **twin*muse, ****Aliasgurl, & ****Skylark for more reviews!  A big, fat, Welcome, to **blackmoa**!  Thanks for your positive reviews!  **


	10. Introductions & Reunions

CHAPTER TEN – INTRODUCTIONS & REUNIONS

As Vaughn was about to open the bathroom door, Sydney's voice stopped him,

"So, I'm supposed to be crazy… delusional, right?"

Vaughn turned to look at her, wondering why she was asking a question like that, "Well… yeah."

"OK, just checking… I'll be out in five minutes."  Then she turned and walked into the shower stall.  Before pulling the curtain closed behind her, she paused and gave him a small smile that was both innocent and unbelievably provocative.

Vaughn just shook his head, glad to have the old Sydney back.  _I can't wait for time for a proper reunion, he thought as he pulled the door open and stepped through into the hallway.  __Soon…_ She said she'd wait… that's all I need.  _He knew that the elation he felt was premature.  She needed to get home, and he needed… _Oh, crap!__

Vaughn quickly removed his phone from this inside pocket of his jacket and dialed the last person he wanted to speak to.  He told En Kai of his conversation with Jack Bristow and that the man would be arriving to retrieve his daughter shortly.

After disconnecting, Vaughn replayed the conversation in his head.  There was no obvious alteration in En Kai's demeanor, but something was off…  Suddenly, Sydney stepped out into the hallway and Vaughn had to shove thoughts of his employer to the back of his mind to concentrate on not giving in to the amazing beauty before him.

Their encounter, and the hot shower that followed, did Sydney worlds of good.  One night of uncertainty and despair was followed by half an hour of near bliss.  After her short, quick run under the scalding water, she wiped down the small mirror and inspected herself.  Her episode with Vaughn showed in her wide eyes and flushed face, but she also noticed how thin she had become.

Vaughn had noticed her weight loss as well.  When he had embraced her, he could feel bones that stuck out from her thin skin, but he didn't say anything.  Now was not the time to wonder about what aspect of the life over the past two years had instigated such a dramatic alteration in her physical appearance and, he surmised, her health.

Her demure smile nudged him back to the moment, and he led Sydney back down the hall to the holding cell.  Vaughn held the door for her as she walked through and back to the corner to sit.  

"Sydney, let the guards know what you need, and they will bring it to you.  I'll see you in a few hours, after your father arrives."  She nodded her understanding and watched him walk toward the door.

Vaughn gave her one last brief smile, and as it dropped, Vargas returned, pulling the door closed and sliding the deadbolt into place.   The instant transformation chilled Sydney to her core.  He'd seen her in wigs and tight outfits too many times to count, but her opportunities to view him undercover were much fewer.  And he had never had to be anyone remotely like Vargas before.

She'd never expected him to be so good at it.  _He reminds me of someone…He reminds me of… __Sark__… Sydney shuddered at the thought of inadvertently comparing Vaughn to that remorseless murderer.  Attempting to quash her thoughts for the moment, she laid her head on the stiff pillow and tried to sleep._

She would see her father today.

-------

As Jack Bristow looked out over the tarmac from the top of the gangway stairs, a sudden realization swept over him…

He would see his daughter today.  _Sydney_… alive after two long years…__

As he descended the staircase, a uniformed driver standing next to a black limousine caught his eye with a lift of a hand.  As he walked over to the driver, he wondered why Vaughn would have chosen such a conspicuous car.

"Mister Bristow?" the driver questioned, opening the rear passenger door.

Jack nodded and ducked into the open door.  His doubts about the car were vindicated when the door closed and another voice greeted him from inside the vehicle.

"Good morning, Mr. Bristow.  It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Jack did not lose his bearings for an instant and addressed the man sitting assuredly in the middle seat, facing him.  "Good morning.  Kin En Kai, I presume?  I have heard much of you from Mr. Vargas.  Pleased to meet you at last."

En Kai nodded.  "I am sorry to say that my son-in-law has told me relatively little about you.  I have, of course, been made aware of the situation with your daughter.  Her illness is very unfortunate, but her discovery, I'm sure, relieves you greatly."

Jack kept his face hard as he tried to discover En Kai's motivation for this meeting.  _Curiosity?__  Suspicion?  What does he need from me?  Jack decided to respond._

"It does, indeed.  I have been very worried and was elated when I was told that Mr. Vargas had recovered her here.  I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality in keeping her safe."

"My own daughter, Mrs. Vargas, is just about her age… perhaps slightly younger… I understand the need to keep them from harm."  En Kai allowed silence to overtake the car as it drove through the slowly-awakening city.

This man, Jack Bristow, was exactly what En Kai would have expected from a CIA officer-gone-freelance.  Stony face – impossible to read… limited words – better to listen than speak.  _Completely predictable_.  

Jack allowed En Kai to study him.  He was sure, now, that this visit was for curiosity's sake.  There was no reason for Vargas to have mentioned his name before, and the situation did call for questions.  But before any more inquiries could be made, the car stopped and the driver opened the door.

When both men were standing in a shaded alleyway, En Kai gestured to a rusted metal door.  Jack quickly pushed through and walked down a metal staircase, brightly lit from open large windows and skylights above, to another, sturdier metal door.  En Kai nodded to the guard, who slid a keycard through the magnetic lock and opened the door.

At the intrusion of daylight into the windowless hallway, Vargas looked up from his heated phone exchange.  When his eyes adjusted and met Jack's, each man discernibly relaxed, and Vargas abruptly ended his conversation with a short, "Never mind!" and a snap of his cell phone.

Vargas looked from Jack to En Kai, slightly startled, but didn't have a moment for questions.

"Where is she?" Jack's near monotone still betrayed a hint of his anxiety to the younger man.

Vargas shifted his gaze to the nearby blue-steel door.  He stepped over to it and quietly slid back the lock, opening the door for Jack to step through.

He barely glimpsed Sydney's rising form before Jack crossed the room in a step, falling to his knees as he enveloped his missing daughter in a crushing embrace.

------

A/N:   Thanks, again, to everyone who read.  Since I'm finished with school for awhile, I intend to concentrate on this.  Keep looking out for more updates!

**megvaughn2003 – **I'm happy you like it!  There will be more twists to come…

**Ryanne** – Of _course_ it's gonna be SV!  But I can't promise there won't be just the tiniest bit of angst to come.

**Kira** – Yea!  I have a double reviewer!  Our deal is definitely still in effect, & since my updates will be coming more quickly, now, I hope you've got your reviewin' shoes on!

**twin*****muse – I'm glad you liked the 'let me go' confusion… I wanted to lighten the mood just a tad… Thanks for reading!**

**aliasgurl – OK, I don't know if this is soon… but I've added.  Thanks for sticking with me!**

**Skylark** – Thank _you for your sweet & frequent reviews!  Irina will get back into the story soon… I just didn't want you all thinking I'd forgotten her!_


	11. Goodbyes

CHAPTER ELEVEN – GOODBYES

Sydney was hardly aware of the people who had entered her cell before she was enveloped in the other set of arms she had been longing to feel wrapped around her.

Although she had been feeling much better after coming to an understanding with Vaughn, the emotion in her father's display set her sobbing again.  _He's here… he came to rescue me…  Sydney felt her control give as Jack sat back on his heels and pulled her into his lap.  He held her, stroking her hair and mumbling her name as she cried into his chest.  She felt like a small child being comforted after a nightmare – not too far from the truth._

Sydney started babbling incoherently, describing _her_ nightmare of waking up in the street…  Not remembering the past two years…  Michael is married…  Francie isn't really Francie – she's a double…  She was truly distraught and wanted her father to understand, but the part of her mind that was a CIA agent knew that her breakdown would only aid her cover story – so she let it all out and let her father protect her.

Jack couldn't believe this was _his Sydney in his lap.  She was so small… as thin as he'd ever seen her as an adult.  And she was rambling on about everything in a manner that made her seem – well – crazy.  He was torn between just staying where he was and holding her, picking her up and carrying her immediately to the airport and home, and just leaving her with Vaughn while he hunted down the people who did this to her.  As much as he wanted to make those people feel every ounce of Sydney's pain tenfold, Jack knew that was not a viable option.  _Not yet… but soon…__

"Sydney, are you ready to go home?" he asked when her tears had subsided.

She pulled her head back and looked at her father's open and concerned face.  _Home?  _Where is home, now?_  Sydney pulled him into a hug, resting her chin on his shoulder, and saw the other people in the room with them, hovering by the door.  She surveyed the men quickly before her eyes landed on a sandy-haired man who was clearly not Vaughn._

Vargas did not meet her eyes, instead keeping his gaze planted on the floor until Sydney gave her assent.

"Yes… take me home, dad."

At the sound of his daughter's request, Jack Bristow, cautious spy, returned.

"Mr. Vargas, if you would be so kind as to procure a taxi for Sydney and me…  We have impeded on the generosity of your employer for far too long."

Vargas nodded and left the room without speaking.  En Kai took a step forward as Jack was helping Sydney to stand.

"Mr. Bristow, I assure you that we would be delighted to accommodate you in any possible way.  Are you certain I cannot convince you and your daughter to stay with me tonight in my home?  There is no need to stay as strangers in a hotel when you have friends in the city."

Jack's insides shook at the seemingly innocent offer, but his face did not show it.  Jack looked En Kai directly in the eye as he responded.

"Again, I thank you, but I believe we must refuse your kind offer.  I actually had no intention of remaining here any longer than it took to retrieve Sydney.  I have a flight booked for two waiting for us at the airport."  He looked down at his daughter for a moment before continuing, "My daughter needs to get home."

En Kai smiled his understanding.  "Then I shall take my leave of you.  I wish you a pleasant flight.  Mr. Bristow… Miss Bristow… Goodbye."  With a slight bow, he turned and walked out the door.

------

Vargas had just finished speaking with a cab company when he saw En Kai walk out into the hallway.  He turned toward the older man, awaiting the instructions that always came.  This time, though, his order was mystifying.

"We will see you this evening."

_This evening?__  Why?_  Vargas was at a loss, not recalling any meeting or operation that had been planned for tonight.  "Pardon me?"

En Kai paused, turning back to face him, "Dinner… with Jie and her mother?"

Vargas quickly looked down, unnerved at having forgotten – again.  "Of course.  This evening."

Vargas was still studying the floor when a flicker of emotion passed over his father-in-law's eyes.  By the time his composure had returned enough to lift his head, En Kai had continued down the hall and exited the building.

--------

Once En Kai left the room, Sydney and Jack were alone.  They stood silent for nearly a minute before Sydney spoke.

"Who was that?"

Jack was staring at the door with a look that should have melted it.  "Kin En Kai.  Vargas's…"  He abruptly blinked hard, shifting his gaze to assess Sydney's emotional state.  "Vargas's… employer…"

"Oh…"  When her soft reply hit Jack's ears, he realized exactly how much Sydney knew.  He turned to her, pulling her sagging form to him again.  He softly kissed the top of her head and assured her,

"I love you, Sydney."

New tears sprang to Sydney's eyes when she heard those words – the words she had often longed to hear from her father, but which he rarely spoke – reverberate in the empty cell.

"I love you, too, Dad."

--------

When Sydney emerged through the door her father held open for her, she had to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight.  When she had blinked her vision back into control, she saw Vargas talking softly to another man in front of a taxicab.  

Jack placed a hand on her arm and gently guided her toward the waiting car.  As they approached, Vargas turned and opened the door to the back seat.

Sydney paused in front of him without saying a word.  When she looked into his eyes, she felt a jolt run through her body.  Vaughn was looking at her with a gaze that pulled from the center of her body straight to him, steadying her.  He silently held a hand out to her.  She timidly accepted it and allowed him to lower her into the car.

"Thank you."  Her simple words were all that was spoken before Vargas closed the door.

He looked up at Jack, who had moved to the other side of the car and was standing inside the open door.

"Goodbye, Jack."

"Mr. Vargas, I'll be in touch."  As Vargas nodded his head, Jack climbed into the cab and closed the door.  

The car pulled away and Vaughn stood, fighting the urge to run after it.  The last thing he saw before the cab turned out of the alley was Sydney's eyes fixed on him through the rear windshield.

-------

To my **reviewers**, yet another big THANK YOU!  You have no idea how much getting any kind of feedback helps… it pushes me on!  An idea for my next fic came to me a couple days ago & I was so excited I wanted to jump up & down (but I was buckled into the driver's seat of my car on the tollway during a traffic jam, so I didn't).  I promise I'll finish this one, first, though.  Love you!  Please keep R/R!


	12. Family Dinner

CHAPTER TWELVE – FAMILY DINNER

When the cab arrived at the airfield, Jack looked down at his daughter.  Once they had left the alley, Sydney's strength had failed.  Her tears returned full force and Jack pulled her into another embrace and allowed her to cling to him until she fell into a restless sleep.

"Sydney…" Jack reached a hand up and smoothed the hair back from her forehead.  "Sydney," he said again softly into her ear, "Wake up… we're here."

She gradually blinked her eyes opened and looked up at her father.  "Hi, Dad…" she gave him a sleepy smile for a moment before she recalled where they were… and why.

When he saw her face darken, he gave her shoulders a light squeeze, "Let's go home… okay?"

"Okay," Sydney replied as she sat up and opened the door.  While Jack paid the driver and pulled his briefcase from the seat, she shut the door behind her and stretched.  While she eased her tired muscles, she saw the small private jet the CIA had procured for her trip home.

_Home… _The word had lost its meaning for Sydney.  Home used to be with Francie… but Francie wouldn't be there.  _Francie_… This should never have happened to you.  It's all my fault._  But the real thing that concerned Sydney was that it wasn't Francie that meant home, anymore… it was Vaughn.  And that only made her guilt intensify._

Jack was watching Sydney's reverie with concern.  There was so much he still needed to tell her… about Sloane and the prophecy… but he wasn't sure she could handle it right now.  _Basics first_, he thought, _Sleep… food… then information.  _

"Come on, Sydney.  The plane is waiting."  Jack smiled softly as she looked at him for a moment, then started walking toward the plane.

Sydney entered the cabin first, immediately collapsing on one of the large, cushioned benches.  Jack nodded briefly to the pilot when he boarded, and the captain started the engines as Jack secured the door.  By the time he turned back into the cabin Sydney was fast asleep, curled up on the bench, hands clutching the pillow under her head.

Jack studied his daughter with a blank face.  He silently moved across to a chair where he could watch her until she woke.

-------

"Erik, can you come here, please?"

Vargas heard his wife's call while he was pulling a dark blue tie from his closet.  He heaved a sigh, threw the tie around the open collar of his shirt, and turned to walk back through the door.

As he entered the bedroom, he saw his wife sitting at her vanity, head tilted while she finished putting on an earring.

When she saw him enter the room, Jie smiled up at her husband and reached up to touch the sleeveless shoulder of her black dress.  "Can you zip me?"

Vargas paused, staring at the beautiful woman before him.  She was looking at him with such love… patiently waiting for her doting husband to assist her.  She bashfully lowered her eyelashes for a moment before inquiring, "What is it?"

Vargas shook his head, moving around the bed to the small bench where Jie sat.  As he leaned down to gently raise the zipper up the back of her dress, Vargas placed a small kiss on the side of his wife's neck.  "You.  You look beautiful."

Jie stood, brushing her hands over the shoulders of his suit jacket.  "You are looking pretty good, too."  She gently buttoned his collar button, then moved on to his tie.  Vargas smiled at her look of intense concentration as she firmly knotted the Italian silk.

When she patted his chest indicated she was finished, he leaned forward, dropping a soft kiss on her forehead.  "Are you ready to go?"  He glanced at his watch, "Your father doesn't like it when we're late."

"Of course… just let me grab my bag."  After she retrieved her small black clutch from the pillow, Jie returned to his side.  Vargas placed his hand on the small of her back and the two walked down the hall and out the front door.

--------

Kin En Kai and Erik Vargas sat at the table, eating their food silently while their wives discussed a shopping trip scheduled for the next day.  The two never discussed work in front of Jie or her mother.  Outside of work or Jie, the two men had very little to discuss.

Vargas watched Jie as she spoke in rapid Chinese to her mother.  She was describing some sort of new shoe style she "needed" to buy.  She was constantly buying new things.  Vargas didn't begrudge her spending money… she needed _something_ to do with her day.  What he didn't like was when she bought him gifts - which she was always doing – it felt too… personal.  Luckily for him, it sounded as if this shopping expedition would be purely for the women and "this season."  

While Vargas watched Jie, her father watched him.  En Kai had watched the tapes from the holding cell that morning.  At first, everything seemed ordinary… the girl slept, Vargas took her to clean up, he brought her back, and then she slept.  It had seemed simple enough… everything corresponded to Vargas's information.

However, one thing had stood out when En Kai listened to the audio feed.  When Vargas explained the situation with Miss Bristow, he said that she believed him to be someone called "Michael."  En Kai had also caught the name Michael when she was crying to her father in the holding cell.

However, when Vargas first showed himself to her in the holding cell, she called him something else.  Not Michael, Erik, or Vargas…  _Von…?  What could that mean?  __A name… a place…?_

The women stood up from the table and Jie spoke, interrupting En Kai's contemplation.  "Baba, thank you for dinner.  We have to go.  Mother and I have a big day planned for tomorrow.  We're going to take the jet to the mainland, if that's alright."

En Kai stood and crossed the room to where Vargas was helping Jie with her coat.  "Jie," he answered her with a kiss on her cheek, "You know I can never refuse you anything.  Have fun with your mother."

En Kai wrapped an arm around his wife's waist as they followed the younger couple to the front door.  As they were saying their goodbyes from the doorway, En Kai called out.

"Erik, I need to meet with you first thing in the morning."

Vargas paused, turning back to face his employer.  He nodded briefly, then continued with Jie out to the car.

-------

Sydney awoke with a deep breath, inhaling the scent of hot food.  When she opened her eyes, she saw a rolling cart stopped in front of her covered with oatmeal, bread, and fresh fruit.  Her face stretched into a wide smile and she pushed herself into a sitting position.

As she crossed her legs, she noticed her father in a chair opposite her with his eyes closed.  Her movement did not go unnoticed, and Jack's eyes opened immediately.

"Hi."

"Hi.  What's all this?" she asked, gesturing to the cart.

Jack sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  "I thought you might be hungry.  Does anything look good?"  He refrained from admitting to his concern over her weight loss, deciding instead to see if she would eat on her own.

"Mmmm… yeah," Sydney perused the selection and picked up a banana.  She quickly removed the deep golden peel and devoured the fruit in an instant.  Jack sat back with a satisfied expression when Sydney poured some maple syrup on the oatmeal and began swirling it with her spoon.

Sydney was ravenous, but part of the reason she was stuffing herself was so she didn't need to speak.  She had so many questions, but didn't know where to begin.

Jack was content with silence until Sydney was ready.

She finally stopped a spoonful midair and spoke, "So… how have you been?"

-------

A/N:  Thanks again, guys, for the reviews!  I promise I'll work harder at writing & spend less time at reading them wink, wink.


	13. Connections

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – CONNECTIONS

Jack Bristow had never in his life been as unsure of how to answer a question.  _How have I been?  If he was another man, he would have laughed._

Instead he just shook his head and looked at her inquisitively, "Sydney?"  She placed her spoon and bowl back down on the cart and moved it from between them.

"I know… but I don't know how to start this, Dad.  I mean… Vaughn tells me I've been missing for two years.  I want to know what's gone on – what has happened to the world and to the people I love – starting with you."

Jack sat back in his chair, trying to find the words to explain his past two years.  There really wasn't much to tell.

"Well… You went missing and I tried to find you.  That's pretty much all of it."  He racked his brain, trying to recall any personal information to share with her.  There wasn't any.

"Oh…  Okay, then…" Sydney whispered.  _Now what?  "So what's happened… with Mom… and Sloane?"_

Jack sighed heavily and wiped his hands over his face.  _Exactly what I _didn't_ want to talk about_, he thought.  "Sydney… I'm not sure you should be hearing this right now.  We should wait until you're better rested.  Nothing will change between now and tomorrow at the Joint Task Force."

"Dad," Sydney replied impatiently, "There are a lot of things I don't know, and a lot that you can't tell me.  I should at least attempt to get a start on understanding the past two years with what information is available."  She watched as Jack stood and began pacing the cabin.  "Clearly you know something – something you think will bother me.  I would like to hear it now, from you, rather than later in a room full of strangers."

Jack decided to start with the simplest facts first.  "Irina has not been seen or heard from.  You were the last to see her - that night in Mexico City."  He had spent the better part of a year looking for the woman who had betrayed him, only to come up empty – and alone – every time.  The cynic in him knew that now that he had no interest in finding her, Derevko would be sure to drop right on his front door. 

"Alright," Sydney pressed, "And what about Sloane?"

"Sloane continued his obsession with Rambaldi.  When I determined that tracking you was useless, I started tracking Arvin, thinking he would have some connection to you or Irina… I was right."  Jack paused, wondering exactly how much he should tell his daughter.  He decided it was better to tell her everything now.  _Perhaps it will stimulate her memory._

"Sloane had a connection to you.  I had been tracking him for a while.  A couple nights ago, outside of Florence, he turned up.  Dead."

Sydney lowered her head and squeezed her eyes shut.  She didn't know what to think – her initial reaction was a combination of relief, revulsion, guilt, and anger.  It was what she had wanted… but something about just knowing he was dead, without knowing why, or who, bothered her.

She jerked her head back up to face her father, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable.  "How was he connected with me?" she asked.

Jack walked over to his bag, pulled out a stack of papers, then turned and sat down on the bench next to his daughter.  "It looks as if you were a bigger part of the Rambaldi prophecy than we had originally believed."  He handed the stack to Sydney, "I retrieved these from the house where Sloane's body was found.  There are a lot of things about you.  We must have improperly translated page 47… you are clearly the woman in the prophecy."

Sydney spent several minutes looking through the pages.  Her grasp of antiquated Italian wasn't terrific, but she recognized many dates, places, and events.  It was as if someone else had written her diary for her.  It was… bizarre… as if she had no control over her own decisions… her own life.  She got to the last page.

"It stops," she stated dully.  "This last date," Sydney paused, suddenly realizing she wasn't entirely certain of what day it was, "When is this date?"

"It was three days ago.  The day, we believe, that Arvin Sloane was killed."  Jack looked at Sydney, concerned, but also curious.

Sydney did not follow Jack's meaning.  "How does that connect?  I don't understand."

Jack pulled the papers from Sydney's lap and gently set them on the bench beside him.  He turned and placed a hand on her arm, trying to brace her – or himself – for what she was about to hear.

"Sydney, you… It appears that the person who killed Arvin Sloane… was you."

---------

Kin En Kai sat at the desk, scrutinizing a file in front of him.  After Jie and her husband had left, it was less than an hour before his wife went to bed.  He had promptly checked to make sure everything in the house was in order, then retreated to his study.

While they were eating dinner, a courier had delivered some information he had requested from one of his contacts.  In doing his preliminary search on Jack Bristow, En Kai had discovered that there were _two Bristows connected with the CIA.  The papers he was now inspecting composed the majority of Sydney Bristow's CIA file… illegally copied, of course.  Vargas wasn't the only one with contacts in American intelligence._

En Kai was having trouble equating the thin, broken girl that was in his possession less than twenty-four hours ago, with the talented young agent described in the file before him.  Sydney Bristow was clearly one of the best double agents the CIA had ever seen.  But suddenly, two years ago, the entries in her file stopped.  _When Vargas said her illness first presented.  But, there was no mention of the illness in her file – the entries just stopped._

There was, however, something else that interested En Kai greatly.  The CIA gave their double agents something called a "handler."  The name of Sydney Bristow's handler was Michael C. Vaughn.  

En Kai suddenly understood – exactly – the connection Vargas had with the Bristows.  He turned the page and came face-to-face with a harsh, black and white photo of his son-in-law.

--------

A/N:  Ok, loyal readers & reviewers… Sorry for the long-ish wait for this chapter.  I hope it doesn't disappoint.  This scene with Jack & Sydney was _very difficult to write & I pretty much had to figure _everything_ out in my head in order to do it properly.  On the plus side… I have everything figured out now!  The rest shouldn't be so difficult._

Thanks, again, for joining &/or sticking with me!!!


	14. Preparations

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – PREPARATIONS

Michael Vaughn was standing in his bathroom, arms pressing the polished marble wall under the showerhead as the scalding water pounded down on his scalp.

The thoughts and emotions that were running rampant through his mind had woken him early.  He had lain for almost an hour in a haze of guilt and apprehension.  Guilt for hurting Sydney and (eventually) Jie… apprehension for his impending meeting with En Kai.  When he finally checked the glowing blue light of the alarm clock next to his pillow, he rose from the bed and silently moved to across to the open bathroom door.  Vaughn did not feel ready to face Jie yet this morning and she would be up soon to prepare for her outing with her mother.

So now he stood like a statue, hoping the water cascading down his rigid body would carry his predicament with it as it swirled down the drain.  He allowed his thoughts to drift only to Sydney, remembering the way her soft lips felt pressed to his, the heat of her smooth skin under his fingertips, and the taste of her mouth.  Her gaze when she promised to wait for him… Vaughn let his head fall back, putting his face directly in the path of the water spray.

As the shower pummeled his face, a new image invaded his inner vision – Jie smiling up at him, completely oblivious to his duplicitous deception.  Her face was always so sweet and innocent; she loved her husband so much.  The only problem was that her husband didn't exist.

Vaughn shook his head, jarring himself from his trance.  He turned the shower knobs tightly to the right and smoothed the water from his hair before stepping out of the stall onto the cold, smooth floor.  He swiftly grabbed a towel, dried himself, and wrapped it around his hips.  For one remaining moment, Vaughn braced himself on the countertop, staring into the mirror.  After a deep breath, he turned, opened the bathroom door, and Vargas moved back into the dark bedroom.

-------

At six in the morning, Kin En Kai was still soundly entrenched in his study.  He had spent the entire night going over potential scenarios in his mind, and none had ended well.

It all came down to one indisputable fact: the man his daughter had married was lying – to him and to her.  En Kai could accept lies in his work; they were fairly unavoidable since every person in his line of business had secrets they would die – or kill – to protect.  But the work lies had never before touched his daughter… he had never allowed it, and it infuriated him more than words could convey.

He had tried to rationalize Vargas's – or Vaughn's – actions.  His mind had created situations where Vaughn had truly wanted to leave his old CIA life… had truly fallen in love with Jie… and had honestly been living his life as Erik Vargas, but none of those pictures held up under scrutiny.  Vaughn's close relationship with Jack, and especially Sydney, Bristow belied a continuing connection with his old CIA life.

All signs pointed to Vargas as a CIA-assigned mole sent to infiltrate his organization.  The question now plaguing En Kai's mind was how to handle it with the least amount of pain for Jie.

-------

When Vargas was dressed in his standard black slacks and slate button-down shirt, he walked over to rouse his still-sleeping wife.  After rounding the corner of the king-sized bed, he paused, staring at the striking woman resting on her stomach, jet black hair splaying over the pillow and her face.  He knelt down, supporting himself with a hand on her night-table.

He softly raised his other hand, smoothing the stray locks from her face.  At his touch, her even breathing hitched and her lips stretched into a small smile.  Jie's simple reaction made Vargas grin.  Her eyes slowly fluttered open and she greeted him with a quiet, "Hi."

"Good morning," he replied, leaning forward to drop a kiss on her forehead.  "You need to get up if you're going to be ready when your mother arrives."

As she pushed herself to a sitting position, he stood up and flipped the switch on the bedside lamp.  A gentle chuckle escaped his lips when Jie's arms instantly flew up to shield her eyes from the intruding light.  "I'll go start the shower for you.  Don't hide under there for too long."

After adjusting the water to the perfect temperature, Vargas pulled out a fresh towel and set it on the counter for her.  As he was about to leave, Jie shuffled into the brightly-lit room, eyes squeezed shut.  "Why did we have to put so many lights in this room?" she asked as he pulled her into an embrace.

He laughed again, kissed the top of her head, then moved towards the door.  "How about this," Vargas replied, "I'll make you breakfast before your trip.  Does that sound good?"  He hadn't made breakfast for her in weeks.  It was something he used to do nearly every day when they were first married.

Jie's face brightened and she nodded enthusiastically.  Vargas shut the bathroom door and walked back into the bedroom.  Sitting on the end of the bed, he found his shoes, slid them on and hastily tied them.  They didn't have much time before her mother would arrive for their excursion.

When he reached the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a variety of fresh fruit and berries.  When he spread everything out on the counter, he noticed a courier envelope with his name on it.  The receiving ticket showed that the housekeeper had signed for it while he was in the shower.

Vargas ripped open the top and pulled out a single sheet of paper.  It was only a note from En Kai indicating he would accompany his wife to their house that morning.  He wanted to meet with Vargas there instead of at the office.  The note was quickly replaced in its envelope and hidden in Vargas's pants pocket.

Visibly unshaken, Vargas ducked down to remove a silver platter from the cabinet.  He found a rag, wiped the tray, and set it next to the fruit on the counter.  While he arranged the food into an appetizing visual display, Vargas's mind was digesting and analyzing his employer's message.  En Kai had never before asked to meet at his house.  There had to be something particular that they were going to discuss.  Only one recent anomaly came to mind – Sydney.

While he waited for his wife to join him in the kitchen, Vargas was busy mentally preparing for the upcoming confrontation.  This morning would save him or end him.  He would be ready.

-------

After Kin En Kai had sent the note to his son-in-law's house, he returned to his bedroom to change and wake his wife.  He had decided that Vargas was best handled in his home, where his defenses were at a minimum.

En Kai also wanted a constant reminder of why the situation was so delicate.  Confronting Vaughn in the place where he had constantly been deceiving his wife would be appropriate, and would keep En Kai's mind on the one most important factor – Jie.

An hour later, as he waited for his wife to finish getting ready, En Kai returned to his study.  He picked up the phone and dialed a number he had also called in the early hours of the morning.

"Good morning.  The preparations have been made?"  His face took on a weary expression as he received an affirmative response through the phone line.  "Good.  Be ready in 45 minutes."

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A/N:  Happy Memorial Day!  I hope everybody likes the update.  Please keep those reviews coming… they totally make my day!


	15. Reactions

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - REACTIONS

Sydney couldn't speak for a full minute.  _I killed Sloane?  I… killed Sloane.  Her mind kept cycling the same thought.  She was confused, not understand how something so big could have been forgotten.  She didn't remember killing Arvin Sloane, but the information didn't feel new, either._

Amazingly, she never questioned whether she would, or could do such a thing.  

Finally, she looked up at Jack who was still supportively grasping her arm.  With an unaffected tone, Sydney began her questioning, "How do you know that I killed Sloane?  I thought nobody knew where I was."

Sydney's response shocked Jack.  She had always been a stellar agent, and that including being perfectly capable of defending herself with deadly force when necessary.  But Sydney had always kept her emotions close to the surface, particularly when it came to taking human life.  The fact that she was handling this revelation with such control was alarming.

"His body was found just before you turned up in Hong Kong.  Your fingerprints were all over the gun that was used to shoot him.  Analysis of the scene gave no indication of anyone else.  I suppose it is possible that you weren't the one that…" He paused, not wanting to upset her, "That you weren't the one, but it doesn't seem likely."

Jack studied Sydney's detached face, his concern growing when her only response was a steady nodding of her head.  She didn't even seem surprised by this news.  He wasn't sure that was a good thing. "Sydney, are you alright?"

She allowed herself to reflect for a moment before answering.  There wasn't much to contemplate.  Sydney felt surprisingly… calm.  Resigned.  There was no shock, guilt, or fear.  She did not even feel satisfied that she had finally gotten revenge on the man who had caused her so much grief.  Sydney Bristow was just… quiet.

She covered her father's hand with her own and gave it a light squeeze.  "I'm fine, Dad."

-------

When the plane landed in Los Angeles, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon.  The Bristows collected their few belongings and departed, skipping the airport terminal in favor of a private car waiting on the tarmac.  

The remainder of the flight, after Jack's revelation regarding Sloane, had been spent mostly in silence.  Sydney had quickly fallen back asleep, and Jack had been too stunned to do anything other than sit and stare out the window.

Now settled into the back seat of the car, Sydney decided it was time to get the plan for the next few days.

"Where are we going?  Your house?"

"Well, I haven't had a house for awhile now.  I've taken to living in hotels," Jack answered.  A slightly disgusted expression crossed his face as he continued, "In any matter, I think Kendall probably expects us at the Joint Task Force.  When we last spoke he was very adamant about discovering where you have been, and with whom you have been associating."

"Actually, sir," the driver's voice called over the hum of the tires, "Director Kendall asked me to take you to the safehouse first.  He thought you might want to freshen up.  You and Miss Bristow aren't due at JTF until this afternoon."

Jack and Sydney exchanged a surprised glance.  Kendall was putting their needs and feelings above the Agency's objectives?  That was… unusual.

In less than twenty minutes, their car was pulling into the driveway of a nondescript, ranch-style house.  The garage door opened, the car entered, and the door was shutting again before Jack and Sydney opened their doors to get out.  While Jack moved to speak to the driver about the plans for their stay, Sydney opened the door and stepped into the house.  

The first thing she noticed was that this was a long-term safehouse.  There was closed circuit surveillance equipment, and a top-notch alarm system, but other than that, it was a normal home.  The short-term safehouses had large separate surveillance rooms that looked in on the main rooms.  _At least we won't have to worry about being watched._

She moved through the kitchen, running her hand lightly over the countertop.  She walked past a small dining table and turned left into the living room.  The décor was bland… mostly beige.  There was a sofa, a recliner, a small wooden coffee table with magazines stacked on it, and a television in the corner.

The wall behind the television had built-in bookcases, filled with a variety of literary classics.  Sydney immediately became engrossed in perusing her ready-made library.  _Jane Austin… Greek Tragedies… Faulkner… Carl Sandburg… not bad!_  She found her favorite Jane Austin novel, Persuasion, and pulled the thin volume from the shelf.  Tucking it under her arm, she turned to find her father standing next to the recliner, watching her.

"Found something you like?" he asked, walking over the front door and checking the deadbolt.

Sydney lifted the book, showing her father the cover.

Jack smiled as he read the title.  "I remember that one.  It was one of your mother's favorites.  Not mine, though.  I used to think all those Jane Austin novels were just the same romance story with different names attached."

"Maybe," Sydney chuckled at the thought of her father reading all the Jane Austin novels for comparison's sake.  She took a deep breath and studied the book's cover.  "But this one is different.  This story shows how love can conquer time.  Nine years of forced separation wasn't enough to lessen the devotion of Anne to Captain Wentworth."  She paused, her voice getting thick with emotion, "She waited for him… and eventually…"

Jack moved to embrace his daughter as her sobs returned, but before he could, she held up a hand to stop him.  "I'm okay." She whispered, trying to control herself.  She gave him a brief, weak smile, "I'm being silly – I know.  I'm just… I'm just going to lay down for awhile."

Jack nodded and watched her move past him, down the dark hallway, and into one of the bedrooms.  When he saw the door shut, he turned back to look out the front room window.  

He was too immersed in his concerns for Sydney to notice the car that had been paused down the street begin to move away.  He was too worried to notice the beautiful woman driving the car, who had been discretely watching the house from behind large sunglasses.

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A/N:  Thanks, again, to all the terrific reviewers!  I love you guys.  In writing this chapter, I inadvertently wrote half of the next chapter… part of why this took so long, but it just means that the next update will come MUCH quicker!  And a special, huge, big hug to whoever nominated me & this story over at FoF.  THANK YOU!!  You have no idea how amazing it makes me feel that my first attempt at fanfic has been so well-received.


	16. Surprises

CHAPTER SIXTEEN – SURPRISES

After shutting the door, Sydney took a quick look around the small bedroom and then collapsed onto the bed.  She curled up on the hard mattress, clutching the instigating book to her chest.

For the first time, she allowed herself to fully grieve for the loss of Vaughn.  She knew that he would come back to her, but there was no way to tell when.  The ache in her gut had become almost more than she could bear, and they had been separated for less than twenty-four hours.  She closed her eyes as the hot tears burned in pools on her face.

Sydney couldn't imagine going through the rigors of the next few days and weeks without him there for support.  She knew that whatever was buried in her memory couldn't be pleasant, and that getting those memories back was going to be near torture.  It was good to know that her father was there, but it was Vaughn who was her rock.  

How was she even going to walk into that building?  To Sydney, the JTF completely represented Vaughn and their relationship.  His desk… the conference room… the hallway where he first confessed his feelings… Too many memories waited for her there, but there was nothing else to be done.  

Sydney rolled onto her back and wiped her tears with a long sleeve.  She held the book up and looked at it.  _Dad must think I'm nuts… losing it over a novel._  It just struck a nerve.  She wasn't originally thinking of Vaughn when she pulled it from the shelf, but when she started discussing it with her father, Sydney realized how pointed the plot was to her current situation.

She opened the book towards the back, and quickly found the passage she wanted to see.  "You pierce my soul.  I am half agony, half hope.  Tell me not that I am too late…"  The words sounded harsh, reverberating slightly in the sparsely-furnished bedroom, as Sydney's lips made the pleas her own.  

With the distance of time and space between herself and Vaughn, Sydney's doubts that had been temporarily allayed by his nearness began creeping back into her mind.  Aside from the obvious problem that Vaughn was, in fact, married, there were the hazards of his mission to worry about.  Sydney had only seen En Kai for a moment, but the level of respect and fear exhibited by his inferiors told her that he was not a man to be trifled with.  

Sydney lay curled on the bed, imagination rife with thoughts of Vaughn and what could be happening to him.  Eventually, the rigors of the past few days overcame her anxiety and she fell into a fitful sleep.

-------

Just as Jie was finishing the last strawberry from the tray her husband had prepared for her, there was a knock from the front door.  Vargas handed Jie a napkin as he stood up from resting his elbows on the kitchen counter.  "That should be your parents," he commented.

A few moments later, Mr. and Mrs. En Kai entered the kitchen, led by the Vargas's housekeeper.  Jie hopped up from her position on the high stool at the counter and ran to greet her father and mother.  After joyfully embracing each one, Jie pulled her mother off to the bedroom to inspect her soon-to-be-replaced wardrobe.

Vargas and En Kai greeted each other civilly, but with few words.  En Kai continued standing, staring out the open window as Vargas cleaned up the dishes from breakfast.  Just as he was placing the last of the leftover fruit into the refrigerator, Vargas heard a giggling from the front room.  After washing and drying his hands, Vargas turned back to the kitchen only to find his father-in-law was gone.

Following the sound of voices, Vargas stopped at the threshold to the front room, listening.  He could hear Jie arguing with her father in rapid Chinese about something.  As he listened closer, it became apparent that En Kai was trying to persuade Jie and her mother to extend their trip to the mainland.  He had booked a hotel for them for a week, but the women didn't want to stay away that long.

Vargas's mind was reeling.  _First the changed meeting, then sending my wife away?  What is he planning?_  He knew that something had to be wrong.  This behavior - business meetings away from the office, showing up at the house so early in the morning, telling his beloved daughter to stay away – it was all completely unlike what Vargas knew of En Kai.  

Before he could rationalize what was going on, Jie had given in.  Vargas stepped back from the doorway as she pushed through, nearly slamming into him.

"Oh!  Erik, are you alright?" she asked, a concerned look gracing her delicate features.  At his assurance that he was fine, she continued, "Baba wants mother and me to make a holiday of our little trip.  He's booked us into a very nice resort so we can shop and relax for a whole week."

She leaned into him and draped her arms over his shoulders.  "I didn't want to be away from you for so long, but you know how stubborn my father can be… So, I'm off to pack a bag."

Vargas gave his wife a small, sweet kiss.  "I'll miss you," he whispered softly in her ear.  "Hurry home, okay?"

Jie gave her husband a gentle smile, kissed him lightly on the nose, and said, "I promise."

-------

Jack Bristow had sat staring out the front window of the safehouse for over an hour after Sydney had closed herself into the bedroom.  His thoughts were a jumble of worries and planning.

He knew that breakdowns like the one he just witnessed would be a common occurrence over the next few weeks.  Jack knew that the process of retrieving Sydney's memory would be long and fraught with emotional turmoil, but he had a feeling that this particular episode had little to do with memory loss and more to do with the man she left behind in Hong Kong.

On the flight, Sydney had been doing the questioning.  She hadn't asked about Vaughn, and Jack didn't want to press the issue.  Her actions in Hong Kong indicated that she understood Vaughn's situation – his mission – but Jack had no idea how she felt about it… about him.  

He knew that Sydney had cared deeply for Vaughn, and after she disappeared, Vaughn had made no attempts to hide his love for Sydney.  Now Jack only wondered how the two had left their relationship.  Had they come to an understanding?  Was she angry?  Was she hurting?  

The father in him wanted to rush into her bedroom and demand answers, but Jack knew that was the last thing that Sydney would need or want.  She would tell him when she was ready.

He looked at his watch and noted there was about an hour before he needed to wake Sydney.  Having decided to walk around the neighborhood in order to clear his head, Jack found a pen, scribbled a note for Sydney on a notepad he found in a drawer, and headed for the front door.

Before unbolting the lock, Jack quickly looked out the windows, checking for anything out of the ordinary.  The only person on the block was a young boy rollerblading down the sidewalk.  Assured of the lack of danger, Jack opened the door and stepped outside.

As he walked down the short cement driveway, Jack was surprised when the rollerblading boy stopped straight in front of him.  "Hi," the boy addressed him directly.

"Hello," Jack returned the greeting and glanced harder at the child who appeared to be about twelve years old.  "Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

"Yeah," the boy grinned sheepishly, "I was sick this morning, but I feel better now."  He moved his hands to his back pocket and pulled out a thick business envelope.  "A lady in the park asked me to bring this to you.  She paid me five bucks," he stated happily.

Jack tentatively took the envelope.  Before he had a chance to ask any questions, the boy had shouted "Bye" and skated away.  The envelope was thick with folded papers.  The only marking on it was "JACK" written in a handwriting he knew all too well.

Thirty years before, Jack Bristow saw that exact handwritten label every day – on the paper sacks that held the lunches made for him by his wife.

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A/N:  Whew!  Finally… Thanks for your patience, everyone!  And your reviews have been making my day… please keep them up.  


	17. The Letter, part I

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – THE LETTER, PT. I

Jack sat sunk into the recliner, Irina's letter splayed out on his lap, too exhausted from her disclosures to do anything else.

After the boy had skated away, Jack stood in the driveway, just staring at the overflowing envelope.  The idea that Irina had that much information was nothing new, but the thought that she would share it with him – without wanting something in return – was bizarre.  The situation only got more bizarre after he returned to the house and opened the envelope.

_Jack,_

_Do not go to the CIA with __Sydney__ until you have read all of this!  You and __Sydney__ need to discuss how much of this information you feel prudent revealing._

Without a thought of reading any further, Jack immediately strode from the living room into the kitchen and picked up the phone.  He dialed the CIA main line, asked for Kendall, and informed a surprisingly compliant Director that the Bristows would not be returning until the next morning.  After hanging up the phone, Jack stood at the kitchen counter, trying to mentally prepare for whatever surprises Irina had in store for them this time.  Needing a reminder of why he had to be strong, he left the kitchen and moved silently down the hall to Sydney's bedroom door.

After listening with his ear to the door and hearing nothing but her even breathing, Jack softly turned the knob and entered the room.  He paused just inside the entry, watching as the golden afternoon sun played off his daughter's peaceful face.  He moved to her bedside, carefully removed the book she clutched to her chest, picked up a blanket folded at the foot of the bed and laid it over Sydney's shoulders.  He softly pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, resting his hand on her cheek, then turned and left the room.  Jack had no intention of waking Sydney until it was necessary, and he wanted time alone to read the remainder of Irina's letter.  

He did read it.  All twenty, double-sided pages of it, and now he couldn't think what could possibly be his next move.  He couldn't quite comprehend the enormity of… well… Sydney's past two years.  

Jack had been right on target.  Sloane's minons had kidnapped Sydney from her own home after the fight with Allison Doran, who had contacted her employer when she realized her position had been compromised by Will Tippin.  But knowing he was right in following Sloane didn't make the knowledge of what happened to Sydney any easier to digest.  Irina was blessedly vague about the types of torture that their daughter suffered, but the reason the pain was inflicted upon her was enough to make Jack nauseated.  He looked back down at the elegant writing which conveyed such horrible truths.

_Sloane__, as you are well aware, has completed assembling Il Dire.  What you may not know is the reason he abducted __Sydney__ and why he tried so aggressively to recruit you as his partner._

_I assume that you are now aware that it was __Sydney_ in Rambaldi's prophecy, not me.  Sloane needed ___Sydney__ to complete Rambaldi's work.  Il Dire, "The Telling," would only give its secrets to one person, and that person was our daughter.  The purpose of Rambaldi's machine was to relay all of his greatest secrets, including the key to immortality, but there was a catch.  _

_The machine only works with the 'chosen one' connected to it through a tube inserted into her abdomen.  Her blood runs through the machine and she becomes part of it, and it part of her.  It will tell her whichever of Rambaldi's secrets she wishes to know, but she has to want to know them.  The chosen one must freely become part of the machine.  Sloane would only get Rambaldi's knowledge if Sydney was first willing to obtain it, then willing to give it to him.  He was well aware of the challenge that task presented after he had so thoroughly destroyed her life. _

_This is where you come in, Jack.  Sloane needed Sydney to cooperate, and he knew that having you on his side would be the best way to convince her to help him.  However, you were not the only plan he had for breaking her.  He tortured her extensively, using every method he knew, both physical and mental, but she would still not comply with his wishes.  She held on tightly to the idea of her family and friends and all the grief Sloane had caused you all.  _

_So, in a last-ditch effort to remove all __Sydney_'s hope of return to her normal life, he faked her death.  He planted ___Sydney__'s locket – the one that Emily had given her for her 21st birthday – on an unidentifiable body and left it for the CIA to conclude that she was dead.  Sloane's torment of Sydney consisted of pictures of her funeral, her grave, and then finally, pictures of the man she loved… married to another woman._

_It was at that point that I located Sloane.  I managed to extract __Sydney__ and remove her to a safe place.  It took her nearly a month to physically recover from the damage Sloane had done in the months she was in his captivity.  The mental wounds never fully healed._

Jack had to force himself to breathe as he read those blood-chilling words.  The fact that he had been so close... that if he had only accepted Sloane's offer, he may have been able to save Sydney months of suffering… it was too much.  Thank God that Irina had succeeded where he had failed.  Who knows what might have happened if she hadn't discovered and rescued Sydney when she did?

Irina's next narrative should have surprised him, but after the way he had failed Sydney, it didn't.  Irina had not held her against her will.  After Sydney recovered, she refused to return to the CIA… or to Jack.  Irina seemed to know the guilt he would feel, and tried to assuage him: 

_It wasn't that she didn't want to be with you, Jack.  __Sydney__ had finally come to understand the power that Rambaldi's prophecy was to have in her life.  She felt that before she could do anything… attempt any kind of return to her life and loved ones… she needed to be rid of Sloane forever.  She thought that nobody would ever be safe – especially you and Agent Vaughn – until the Rambaldi mess was finished._

_I agreed to help her.  We spent weeks training her to be certain she was back at full strength, then we commenced our search for Sloane.  Although he was evasive, he wanted __Sydney__ as much as she wanted him, and eventually we found him._

Jack recalled the scene from the villa in Fiesole.  After two years of watching her life being stolen from her, Sydney had gotten her revenge.  She had killed Sloane.  Jack tried to imagine her life… how she must have suffered, even after the torture was over.  If Sydney felt things were so horrible that she could not turn to him for help…

A shudder escaped his rigid form as he grieved for his daughter's innocence.  This was never supposed to happen… he had worked so hard to keep her from harm, but it never seemed to do any good.  Every plan he had made for her safety had backfired and now all was left with was a broken daughter and a mountain of guilt to rival the Rockies.

Jack heaved a sigh and began to stack the papers.  He suddenly heard the sound of feet on the carpet and saw Sydney walking down the hallway toward him.

"Why didn't you wake me?  Kendall's going to throw a fit," she commented.  She stopped cold when she saw her father's sickened expression.

"Dad?  What's wrong?"

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A/N:  OK, in case you missed it… the long delay (this time) was **not my fault!**  FF.net wasn't allowing anyone to upload new content for a few days, but it's been fixed now.  I guess all my readers here get a treat, because the next chapter goes up _tomorrow_!!  big sigh  I'm tired, now.  Thank you SO much to everyone who has read my story… there's still a good bit to go, so I hope you've been getting your rest in.  Please keep reviewing… those little comments make my days!


	18. The Letter, part II

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – THE LETTER, PT. II

Jack looked Sydney straight in the eye, and said the only word his voice could rasp out:

"Sark."

Sydney's eyes instantly widened with fear and confusion.  _Is he here?  Is he after me?  _Her head turned, rapidly scanning the room for any immediate danger.  When she found none, she returned her gaze to her father, waiting for him to elaborate, but he appeared too distraught to explain.  It was then that Sydney saw the pages he held on his lap.  She stepped closer, trying to make out what the documents were and was startled when he snatched them away from her reach, quickly standing and moving across the room.

"Dad?"  She didn't understand what was going on, "What are those papers?  What about Sark?"

Jack had always prided himself on the ability to keep his cool under in the most pressure-filled situations.  He had been tortured, been torturer, and a participated in a million different terrifying scenarios, but he had never been fully at a loss for words.  But this was different.  _How do I tell my daughter that the past two years have only been filled with suffering for her?  How can I explain to her that the reason she is lucky enough not to remember that pain is…_

"Sark…"  He again growled out the only syllable that he was able to force past his lips.  

Sydney saw her father's mood rapidly altering from pain and confusion to pure, unadulterated anger.  Not wanting to press him, she slowly lowered herself into the recliner he had just vacated, and waited.

It was a full ten minutes before Jack relaxed enough to sit down on the sofa, and another five minutes before he began to speak.  "This is a letter from your mother."

Sydney's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she made to comment.

"The letter is very… informative.  It appears that you have been with her for the past few months, tracking Sloane.  Our guess was correct: you shot him."

This confirmation came as no surprise to Sydney, so she just nodded, urging Jack to continue.

"He kidnapped you and tortured you for months until your mother rescued you.  He faked your death.  When you recovered, you stayed with your mother and hunted Sloane without contacting anyone."  Jack's voice was thick with grief and guilt.  He still was unable to absorb the fact that Sydney has requested Irina's assistance and not his.

In an effort to compose himself, Jack squeezed his eyes shut with a hand rubbing his temples.  After a deep sigh, he handed a page from the letter to Sydney, and with a murderous snarl spat out the name of the person she was still wondering about.

"Sark."

Sydney turned her attention to the page before her, eyes devouring the words in that familiar script.

_As to __Sydney__'s current condition… the memory loss.  That is partially my fault.  I made a mistake in trusting an associate in our chase for Sloane.  I know that you have been out of contact with the CIA, Jack, so I'm not certain whether you were aware of __Sark_'s___ escape from custody._

_After I discovered you had retired, I knew it was safe to extract __Sark__.  I had trained him for years and sent him to infiltrate Sloane's organization for me, so I was sure he would be useful in my search for __Sydney__.  In truth, _Sark___ was helpful… he was the only reason I was able to discover where Sloane was keeping __Sydney__._

_After we had extracted her from Sloane's custody, __Sark__ assisted me in __Sydney__'s rehabilitation and later in hunting for Sloane.  He seemed to be everything that I had known him to be, and he was even softer… friendly even… toward _Sydney___.  But after _Sydney___ eliminated Sloane, _Sark__'s___ true intentions were revealed._

_Apparently, while in Sloane's company, __Sark__ had fallen prey to the Rambaldi obsession.  He only assisted us in discovering Sydney and Sloane because he wanted Il Dire for himself.  His overtures toward __Sydney_ had been in hopes of winning her trust, so she would complete the Rambaldi prophecy… for him.__

_Of course, __Sydney__ refused, she and _Sark___ fought, and he escaped.  __Sydney_ then believed her troubles with Rambaldi were over.  We discovered where Agent Vaughn was assigned, and __Sydney___ immediately left for __Hong Kong__.  I did not accompany her… and I should have._

_Sark_ was waiting for her.  He caught her unaware, drugged her, and used hypnotic techniques to erase her memory.  He wanted another chance to win her trust and convince her to activate the machine.  He left her in __Hong Kong___ and fled to __New Zealand__ to wait for an opportunity._

_That was where I found him, while you and Agent Vaughn were helping __Sydney__.  _

Now Sydney understood her father's shock.  She had always known that Sark was dangerous, but she never truly believed that he would go against her mother.  

Sydney's hands began to shake.  She tightened her fists in an effort to control the rage bubbling inside her, crumpling the page of Irina's letter in the process.  

Was she never going to be rid of Rambaldi?  She had always assumed that removing Sloane from the picture would allow her to have a normal life.  A life with Vaughn.  Milo Rambaldi and his work would apparently never permit that to happen.  For every Sloane, there would be a Sark to carry on the obsession.

She wanted to kill him.  Only one thing kept her from grabbing her father's gun and hijacking the first plane to New Zealand.

_Needless to say… he will not bother __Sydney__ anymore._

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A/N:  Thanks, again, everyone for your patience.  I'm sure now that the server-thingy is back up, you have an abundance of terrific updates to read, & I am very flattered that you take the time to read &/or review my little piece.  Just in case this ever happens again, I want you all to know that _Realizzata is also posted at SD-1.com and at aliasuncovered.com.  I hope you like the new chapter!_


	19. Turning Points

CHAPTER NINETEEN –  TURNING  POINTS

Vargas watched from his front door as Jie and her mother stepped into the back seat of a stretch limousine and drove away.  With her went his last assurance of his safety.  He had to concentrate for a moment, screwing up his courage to face the man waiting inside his house.  After a deep breath, he backed inside the house, shut the front door, and turned back into the room.

En Kai met his gaze for a moment, but then turned and shuffled calmly into the kitchen.  Vargas did not hesitate.  He understood that he was to follow.

En Kai sat at the kitchen table, with his briefcase resting on the chair next to him.  He motioned for Vargas to sit at the seat across from him, and Vargas complied.  When both men were seated, the elder's soft voice broke the silence:

"Explain to me, again, how you are acquainted with the Bristow family."  

Vargas did not allow his face to betray the sense of panic he was feeling, instead keeping his gaze steadily fixed on his father-in-law's.  He had prepared for this line of questioning all morning, but now, faced with the words directly, the cover story that Vaughn had created didn't feel plausible.  En Kai was radiating his usual confidence, which Vargas knew only meant trouble for whomever was being confronted.

Right now, that meant trouble for him. 

-------

When Sydney began to shake visibly, Jack's own rage subsided, overshadowed by worry for his daughter.  He moved across the living room and knelt before her.  He gently placed his hands over hers, opening her fist and removing the page from her hand.  He then just sat next to her, softly stroking her hands as they lay, unmoving, in her lap.

Sydney had never before been so paralyzed with fury.  Her entire body was clenched and quaking.  Hear eyes were wide open and tears were streaming from them, but Sydney made no sounds.  In the back of her mind, she told herself to breathe… talk… move… something before she completely snapped.

The breathing was all she could manage at the moment.  

Gradually, Sydney's body relaxed.  When she finally began to feel again, the exhaustion completely overcame her.  She felt as if she had run a marathon… the effort required to keep her head upright was too much.

Jack watched her slowly slump in the chair.  When she seemed to have calmed sufficiently, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her the few feet to the sofa.  He laid her down tenderly, covered her with a blanket, and took her place in the recliner.  Jack's gaze never left Sydney's face as once again she escaped from the emotional hell of the past few days into a sleep which, for her sake, he prayed would be dreamless.

-------

Not knowing what else to say, Vargas repeated the vague cover story he had originally used for Jack to En Kai: former CIA… gone freelance… important contact.  En Kai seemed unimpressed. 

"That's all?" the older man pressed.  Vaughn was really starting to get concerned.  En Kai had never cared about any of his contacts previously, and he had certainly never questioned how Vargas had come to acquire his contacts.  The alarm was becoming severe now, and he prayed that the heat he felt rising under his collar would not show on his face.  He nodded confirmation, hoping that would be the end to the particular line of questioning.

That hope was immediately dashed as En Kai's face clearly showed disappointment.

"That is unfortunate.  I had hoped you would be more honest with me this time."  Vaughn stared, in horror, as En Kai pulled a thin file from his briefcase and shoved it across the table.  "Open it," En Kai commanded.

What color was left in Vaughn's face drained away completely when he realized what he was seeing: it was Sydney's CIA file… or part of it.  The first page was all her basic information from when she first joined the Agency… vital statistics, mission, cover.  He did not need to turn the page to know what he would see, but En Kai clearly had other ideas.

"I must say, when I first saw this file, I believed Miss Bristow to be an exceptional actress.  However, I cannot seem to understand why the CIA would send her here… to be your captive in my holding cell."

Vaughn closed his eyes, unaware that he had stopped breathing as he waited for En Kai's next statement.

"Perhaps you could explain it to me Mister Vaughn?  Or perhaps, since we are family, I can call you Michael?"

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A/N:  Just another quick update, since the last one was so short.  I'm running out of ways to say "Thanks for reading!"  


	20. Unfinished Business

CHAPTER TWENTY – UNFINISHED BUSINESS

Vaughn couldn't believe that he had allowed this to happen.  His cover was blown to pieces and he was being held prisoner in his own home, strapped tightly to one of his dining room chairs which had been placed in the middle of his living room.

As soon as En Kai's lips had finished pronouncing Vaughn's given name, the kitchen door had swung open, revealing one of Vaughn's own subordinates wielding a rather large gun.  Before Vaughn had half a second to respond, or attempt to fight, he felt the pinch of a needle on the side of his neck.  The last image he saw while slumping to the floor was En Kai's face armed with more rage than he realized the older man possessed.

So now he was immobile – arms, legs, and head bound to a chair which he suddenly realized was not nearly as comfortable as Jie claimed they were when she purchased them.  Once En Kai found Vaughn to be fully revived, they began his questioning.  However, after it became clear that Vaughn would not be answering questions about himself, the CIA, or the Bristow family with any readiness, En Kai dropped the act.

En Kai had no true need for any information from Vaughn.  The questions were merely a formality… to see if he could decipher what kind of information about the Triad had been leaked to the CIA… but they were not necessary.  So, instead of questions, Vaughn received a lecture.

It was a lecture, of course, that was accompanied by some of En Kai's favorite "reinforcement techniques."  En Kai had used vices on Vaughn's forearms and shins, pins under the fingernails, crude electric shock, and razor blades in an attempt to pay Vaughn back for his deception of Jie.

"Also, of course," En Kai had said, "for the grief that she will suffer when she learns of her husband's horrible and untimely death."

-------

Sydney awoke feeling stronger than she had in days.  Whether it was the rage that had finally drained her body, allowing her a real deep sleep, or the fact that she now had the missing puzzle pieces to her life, Sydney couldn't tell.

Her eyes blinked open, and she first noticed that she had slept through sunset and that the sky was completely dark.  Her eyes flitted from the window to the recliner where her father sat, watching her intently.  Although she was certain he had not slept since she had been discovered, he was looking more like his old self… stoic and cool, but with sharp eyes that weighed every new piece of information.  His eyes contained something else, too, that Sydney couldn't quite identify.

"Sydney?"

"Dad?"

"Sydney… I'm so sorry."  Jack had been waiting hours to tell her that… to relieve a bit of the guilt he was carrying, but she would hear nothing of it.

She stood up from the couch, tossing the blanket that had covered her into a heap in the corner, and walked over to where Jack sat.  After staring at him for a moment, she answered, 

"There are three men responsible for the hell I have been through in these past two years, Dad."  She leaned forward, resting her hands on her father's shoulders and pressed a firm kiss into his dark silver hair, "And you are most definitely NOT one of them."

Sydney knew what she had to do.  While she slept, her dreaming mind was mulling over all the new information her mother had divulged.  Sydney's initial reaction, that because of Rambaldi she could never be free, had taken a deep hold of her, and aided her decision.  She held out a hand to Jack and helped him up from the recliner.

"Call Kendall," she ordered, surprising Jack by her alteration in demeanor from the afternoon before.  "Tell him that we're going away for a few days.  He doesn't need to know why… just that we have something to take care of.  We'll be back, and then I'll succumb to all the tests and regression the CIA wants.  I have some unfinished business first."

Jack nodded and was pulling out his cell phone when Sydney walked back down the hall to the bathroom.

After they had both showered and packed a change of clothes from their CIA-provided wardrobes, they took a cab back to the airport and were on the very next flight out.

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Vaughn had seen the results of En Kai's handiwork before, but he never knew exactly what the usually soft-spoken man was capable of… until now.  Apparently deceiving his daughter into marriage called for some extra effort on En Kai's part – and Vaughn's nerves were registering every little bit of that effort.

The CIA had, obviously, trained him to withstand torture before they allowed him to go deep cover… but nothing compared to the real thing performed by a master who was thoroughly enjoying his work.  Before Vaughn had time to assess his injuries, he felt a gust of air from the direction of the doorway behind him.  The straps on the chair did not allow him to turn his head, but Vaughn knew it was En Kai returning to continue his "questioning."  

"Did you have a pleasant rest, Mr. Vaughn?  I'm sorry I had to leave, but you know our business… it doesn't stop for anything, even family emergencies.  Now, where were we?"

En Kai stopped directly in front of his son-in-law and surveyed his face, waiting for a response.  He gave a soft smile as the look in Vaughn's eyes spoke explicitly about where he could go.  But En Kai was almost never intimidated, and certainly not by a measly undercover CIA agent... Especially a CIA agent who he had immobilized in a chair, miles from everyone who knew or cared.  

En Kai pushed closer, leaning over the chair and placing the weight of his body on Vaughn's bruised and bloody forearms.  His face broke into a rare genuine grin as Vaughn winced involuntarily.  With his face just inches from Vaughn's he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a sound from across the room.

Both men were frozen, gazes locked on the front entrance as the knob turned and the door swung open, revealing the last person either of them expected to see.

-------


	21. Innocence Lost

A/N – Text in *asterisks* is in Chinese.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – INNOCENCE LOST

Jack Bristow sat in an uncomfortable waiting area chair at Charles de Gaulles Airport.  Sydney had gone to grab them some coffee while they were waiting for their connecting flight.

She had conveniently delayed until after he had spoken to Kendall and they were on their way to the airport to inform Jack of where they were going.  Frankly, he was surprised at his own lack of curiosity in their destination.  _She wanted me to come with her_, he thought with a small smile. _Of course, I'd go anywhere she wanted me to go._

Actually, Sydney's plan was exactly the action he had wanted to take, but Jack hadn't expected Sydney to be so determined so soon.  

He knew that she needed to do this… to rid herself of this plague that had destroyed her life.  Now that Sloane and Sark had been eliminated, there was only one remaining roadblock standing in her way… Il Dire.

"Le Vol de lignes aériennes Alitalia 403 à Florence montent maintenant tous passagers de première classe et les passagers avec les petits enfants au portail G17. Tous passagers de première classe et les passagers avec les enfants, s'il vous plaît commencer l'embarquement au portail G17."

Jack cocked his head slightly, listening to the announcement for their flight.  After a quick scan of the area, he saw Sydney heading his way with two steaming coffee cups in hand.  He stood as she approached and took the cup she offered.  "We've only got a couple minutes," he informed her.

"Well, drink up!" she smiled, "It's only a couple hours until we arrive, and I don't plan on taking any time to rest.  You'll need the caffeine."

Jack nodded and quickly drained his cup, tossing it into a nearby trashcan.  He handed Sydney her boarding pass, and they quickly moved to join the rest of the passengers in the line.

-------

For a moment, the only sounds that could be heard in the dark room were those of Vaughn's labored breathing.  Then, a blood-curdling scream came from the woman standing in the doorway.  The scream was instantly followed with a tirade of angry Chinese, as Jie came running up to the two men who were still frozen in shock.

She pulled her father roughly away from his position hovering over her husband, her adrenaline and fury giving her more power than she usually possessed.  En Kai stumbled back, barely able to keep himself upright as his daughter, who was supposed to be hundreds of miles away, stalked right up to him, ranting in a high-pitched voice which he was sure he had never heard from her before.

She prodded him with a well-manicured finger in his breastbone.  He was too shocked to do anything other than back away hurriedly until he felt the soft edge of the sofa behind his calves. 

"*What are you doing?  Are you hurting him?  How could you ever think of hurting my husband?  What have you done?  Is this why you sent me away... so you could do THIS?*"  She gestured to the chair where Vaughn was trying desperately to translate her angry words.  "*Did you think I would never find out?*"

She shoved her father down onto the sofa and turned to the man strapped into her dining room chair.  She fell to her knees in front of him and began desperately tugging at the ropes tied around his legs.  Before she was able to release the tight knots, he father had regained the use of his tongue.  

"*He's not who you think he is.  This man has been lying to you since the day you met.*"

Her hands stilled on the ropes as the concept of what her father was telling her settled into her mind.  Jie had always known that Erik had secrets, but she assumed that none of them related to her or their life together.  _He loves me… he would never lie about something important_, she reminded herself.

But, something he had done had triggered her father's anger.  Jie had always avoided discovery of exactly what kind of business her father and husband were involved in, but she knew that her father was formidable when angered… to the point of being dangerous.  

But Jie also knew that her father kept his anger away from her and her mother.  Something must have gone horribly wrong if he was willing to do this.  Could what her father said be true?  She needed to hear the truth from the one person who could give it to her.

"Erik?"

-------

Even with the coffee, Jack's body had finally succumbed to sleep not long after their flight took off.  It was as though his unrelenting stoicism had been traded for Sydney's sudden resolve and vigor.

When she had made her announcement back in the safehouse, he had silently complied and allowed her to take the lead.  When she told him in the cab that they were going back to Florence, he did not look startled at all.  He simply nodded and handed her a packet containing a passport, credit cards, and birth certificate… false identifications for her that he had been keeping just in case this type of thing was necessary.

Sydney smiled as she looked at her father's relaxed face.  _By this time tomorrow, it will be done.  Nobody will want to hurt me or the people I love anymore.  Dad will finally be able to enjoy a quiet life…and I… _Her thoughts drifted another continent over, to the real reason why this final mission was so important.  _I will be able to be with Vaughn.  I'm doing this for him.  I'm doing this for us._

As she turned her head to look out the small airplane window, she wondered if she'd said the same thing to herself when she began her hunt for Sloane.

-------


	22. Release

A/N:  Text in *asterisks* denotes Chinese.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – RELEASE

Vaughn couldn't respond to Jie's question.  It was as if his tongue had become disconnected from his brain… although, his brain wasn't doing much to help the situation, either.  He blinked hard and swallowed, not able to move his head to avert his gaze.

"Erik?" Jie asked again from her kneeling position before him, this time with a trace of desperation in her tone.

Several thoughts raced through Vaughn's head at once.  He could deny it.  Use the charm that had proved so successful on her this past year and attempt to convince Jie that her father was lying.  However, En Kai had proof… he had Sydney's CIA file, his own picture, and probably the tapes from Sydney's holding cell as well.  He could, instead, admit his mission to infiltrate the organization, but convince Jie that he had truly fallen for her.  _Take a page from Irina Derevko's book?_ he wondered with distaste.  _No._  He couldn't sink to that level.  So that left only one option…

He opened his eyes and met her stare honestly, for the first time since he had known her.  Her eyes widened, immediately noticing the change.  He allowed all the regret and guilt he carried for deceiving her to play out fully across his worn features.  As her soft eyes began to fill with tears and her hands started trembling, he finally whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"No!" came her shocked reply, as she abruptly stood and moved across the room.  The three were now positioned in a triangle, Jie trusting neither enough to be near them.  She began mumbling softly to herself, and the two men did not know how to respond.  After several minutes, Vaughn softly called out, "Jie?"

She immediately whirled to face him, confusion and hysteria melding into white-hot rage.  "Shut up!  You do not get to speak to me anymore.  I do not even know who has been sharing my bed!"  Her entire body shook with the force of her words, her eyes boring holes into his own, "What is your name?"

"Michael," he answered slowly, afraid not to respond, "Michael Vaughn."

She repeated his words softly to herself before continuing, "Why are you here?"

Vaughn took a deep breath, his answer confirming everything that En Kai had suspected.  "I am an American CIA agent, sent to infiltrate your father's organization.  He's part of the Triad, Jie, and involved in an abundance of illegal and dangerous activities.  The CIA gave me orders to meet and marry you, giving me a way into your father's employ."

She sucked in a sharp breath and turned to her father, who nodded his head in defeated concurrence.  He had never wanted Jie to know what his business involved, but there was no way around it now.  He only hoped she could learn to forgive him… in time.

Jie began pacing the room, mulling over the weight of what Erik… no, Michael Vaughn… had just told her.  _The Triad?  She had, of course, heard of the infamous organization, but had no idea that it and her father's enigmatic business were one and the same.  Blood money.  She had been living on blood money her entire life, and now it was coming back to haunt her._

She turned and surveyed the man she had believed to be the love of her life.  He was battered and bloody, looking worse than she had ever seen.  She needed to ask him one more question… the answer he would give was the most important of her life.

"Michael, do you love me?"

-------

Sydney and Jack had been in Florence for over an hour.  They had sailed through customs, as did most of the Americans on their flight, and climbed into a cab.  Jack had explained to the driver where they needed to go, and then went silent.

The road to Fiesole was still familiar to him.  It had, after all, only been a few days since he was last there.  He watched his daughter as she stared out the side window.  She was eerily calm, and had been since she first decided on this mission.  He would have been worried, but she seemed more like her old self than any other time since he had found her.

The cab pulled into the gravel driveway of the villa.  After he paid the driver and watched the car leave, Jack turned and surveyed the house, marveling at how different it appeared by the light of day.  What had seemed overbearing and sinister after sundown was actually bright and airy… very much in the style of central Italy and very much an odd place for Sloane's life to end.

Jack shook himself from his reverie when he realized that Sydney was nowhere to be seen.  He jogged up to the house and entered, this time through the front door.  He looked around, but did not see his daughter.  "Sydney?"

"Back here!"  Her reply came from the back of the house.  Jack walked into the kitchen to find her kneeling next to the trap door, trying her best to wedge her fingers between the wood slats.  He also kneeled and tried to help, but the changing weather had apparently swollen the floorboards, shrinking the cracks around the door so there were almost non-existent.  

Thinking quickly, Jack instructed, "Wait here."

She sat back on her heels, inspecting the kitchen, until Jack returned carrying a crowbar.  "Renovations," was his only explanation, and she nodded, stepping back so he could make use of the tool.  He grunted as he pressed down, putting all his weight into the effort before the door was finally pried from the floor with a loud crack.

Father and daughter looked at each other for a moment, each waiting for the other to make a move.  Jack reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small flashlight and handing it to Sydney.  "Are you sure you want to do this?" he finally asked her.

Sydney looked her father in the eye and nodded decisively once, "I _have to.  She said it would be here.  It needs to be finished."  She took the flashlight, and with one last glance at her father, descended the steep, creaking staircase.  She was still surveying the small cellar when Jack's light beam joined her own, pointing the way._

"The wine is here," he stated as he moved in front of Sydney.  When he reached the middle barrel, Jack set his flashlight on the ground and ran his hands over the large wooden container.  It was resting on a separate wooden stand with four legs.  After pushing the barrel to test its weight, Jack motioned for Sydney to join him.  They both bent down, each grabbing the leg nearest to themselves, and pulled hard.

Slowly, the stand, with the barrel full of wine on top of it, allowed itself to be moved away from the wall.  When there was an opening of a foot on each side of the barrel, they stopped pulling and pointed their flashlights at the wall, revealing what they had just uncovered.

What had been perfectly concealed behind the large round barrel was a narrow tunnel, about three feet in diameter, starting about four feet from the floor.  Jack shot Sydney a "Be careful" look as she squeezed between the barrels, placed her flashlight between her teeth, and climbed into the tunnel.  

It wasn't a long crawl before Sydney found herself entering another chamber carved out of the dirt.  She was brushing loose dust off of her hands when Jack crawled out of the opening behind her.  She swung her light around the walls, and found something this chamber had that the previous one had not.  Noticing where her eyes had rested, Jack walked over to the metal switchbox and flipped on the main power.  After a couple seconds, several large florescent lights around the floor blinked on.

"Sloane must have built this room himself," Jack commented, gesturing to the digging tools leaning against the wall beneath the power switch.  He turned to face Sydney, who was frozen in place, staring at the very thing that she had come for… the thing that had caused her so much pain.

Il Dire.  It was rather smaller than Jack had expected something so important to be, but it stood merely six feet by around four feet… a mishmash of metal, glass, wood and wire.  He noticed a glass tube that extended from the right side, and shuddered softly.

"Sydney?" he inquired gently.

The only response was a loud, guttural moan, almost a keen, from Sydney.  Before he had a chance to move to take her in his arms, she had swiveled on her heel, heading directly for him.  The fiery wrath she was radiating startled him, causing Jack to take two subconscious steps back.

Sydney stepped around her father, reaching her hand to grab the nearest object.  She closed her fist on the handle to a pickaxe, lifted it, and stalked across the room, holding the tool with both hands.  She did not stop as she reached the machine.  Instead, she used her entire body weight, combined with the forward momentum of her arms carrying the heavy tool, and began tearing the machine to pieces.

She was screaming loudly with each heavy blow, but was unaware of the sounds she was making.  Sydney's thoughts were only on the agony that this machine had caused… her directly, and her family and friends indirectly.  She brought the pickaxe down from above her head, over and over.  Every blow had a name… Francie… Emily… Will… Danny… Mom… Dad...  

And when she had ripped pieces from the machine for each piece of her life Rambaldi had ripped from her, there was one left… Vaughn.

Sydney kept swinging the axe, even though her arm muscles were screaming in pain.  The physical was nothing compared to the emotional torture she was releasing.  For having lost moments which could have been spent with him, that were instead spent hiding from Sloane… For almost losing him in Tai Pei, and then again just weeks later… For making him mourn her… For taking two of their best years… For forcing her to wonder if she'd ever see him alive again…

And then there was nothing left.  Centuries of priceless works… destroyed in mere minutes.  

Sydney suddenly became very still, dropping her hands to her sides and the pickaxe to the floor.  Her face was soaked with dirty tears, but she did not wipe them away.  The numbness was beginning to recede and she could feel Jack moving up behind her.  As he laid a tentative hand on her elbow, she spoke to him without turning,

"It's done.  I've finished it.  Let's go home."

Jack nodded, pulling her to him for a moment.  Her outburst had scared him, but not surprised him.  She had been needing that release since the day she found Danny's body.

"Okay, Sydney.  Let's go home."

-------

"Jie, there were times…" Vaughn began, trying to explain his complicated feelings for her, but she cut him of with a hand.

"No!  Michael, I asked you a simple question that should only require an answer, not an explanation."  She repeated her question very slowly, "Do you love me?"

Vaughn took a deep breath, then resolutely answered his wife, "No."

The look of anguish on Jie's face was almost more than either of the men watching could bear.  Vaughn had grown to care for her, and had even wanted to protect her innocence, but it was far too late for that now.  The only thing that he could do was wait to find out how she would react.  

En Kai reacted first, standing up from the sofa and walking over to his daughter.  "*Jie, please go to your mother's house and let me finish with him.*"  

At first Jie said nothing, prompting Vaughn to begin to panic in earnest.  But what she did next showed that she had inherited at least one valuable trait from her father… pride.

"Do you know why I am here, Baba?" she asked her father.  When he had no response, she continued, "My husband and I had a beautiful morning together, and I once we got to the airport, I decided that I didn't want to be away from him this week."  She turned to face Vaughn, "I came back because I am in love with you, whoever you are."

Looking at her father, she held out her hand and demanded, "*Knife.*"  En Kai complied, pulling one out of his back pocket.

Jie moved to where Vaughn was tied to the chair.  One by one she cut through all his bonds until the only one left was the rope around his chest.  When she stopped, Vaughn and En Kai looked at her quizzically.

"I love you, my husband," she continued, "but I also love my father.  So, here is what will be done: Michael, you will go.  Go back to America or wherever is your home and do not ever come back.  Baba, you will release him, and no more harm will come to him.  Michael, you will leave us alone… me and my father.  The CIA has interfered in our lives enough."

En Kai opened his mouth to object, but Jie cut him off, "Baba, if Michael is hurt or killed, you will never see me again."  Her firmly set features told him that his daughter was not lying.  He nodded, turning his eyes to Vaughn.

"Deal," Vaughn whispered softly.

Jie walked over and cut his final restraint.  She then pulled out her cell phone, dialed a number, and held it out to him.  "Taxi," she explained before turning and walking through the kitchen door, En Kai following silently behind her.

-------

Thanks, again, to everyone who has so kindly reviewed my fic.  I know that there is a plethora of great stories for you to choose from every time you come to this site, and the fact that you spend any of your time reading mine flatters me more than I can say!  Thank you!


	23. Friends

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE – FRIENDS

As promised, the Bristows had returned from Florence.  If they thought that their government would give them a warm hello and a welcome back, they were mistaken.

Upon their arrival in Los Angeles, the FBI had taken Sydney into custody, and Jack had been "strongly advised" to meet with Kendall at the JTF.  Sydney was placed into solitary confinement while Jack told their story to the higher-ups.  He wasn't surprised that they didn't believe a word he said.

He showed them Irina's letter, which they immediately dismissed as another of Derevko's oft-tried manipulations of her family.  So, he told them were to find the remains of Il Dire.  It was only once the wreckage was collected, shipped to the states, and analyzed to determine its authenticity that Jack was finally allowed to see Sydney.

Although all the evidence supported it, Kendall and the rest of the brass were still reluctant to believe Derevko's benevolent role in the rescue of one of their agents and the elimination of one of their enemies.  Although neither Jack nor Sydney had spoken their wish aloud, they had each hoped that Irina would receive some kind of clemency for her aid.

Sydney began undergoing hypnotic regression therapy.  After her first week of sessions with Dr. Barnett, it became clear that Irina had not been deceiving them.  Although the flashes were patchy, Sydney had recalled some of her time with Sloane, and a few scenes with Irina and Sark, apparently after she had been rescued.  Although the FBI determined from these sessions that Sydney was not a danger and released her and Jack from protective custody, they made no such assumptions for Irina Derevko.  Jack Bristow's petition for a new hearing and possible pardon for Irina was immediately denied without explanation.

Although Sydney was disappointed about her mother's continued status as a fugitive from the U.S. government, there were other parts of her life that were slowly falling back into place.  She and Jack had moved into a small rental house, fully furnished, and not too far from where she used to live with Francie.  They had barely been there a day when the visitors started coming by.

Dixon was first.  When she saw him, he simply embraced her without words, too choked up to say anything for several minutes.  Surprisingly, the meeting wasn't awkward.  He answered all Sydney's questions about his family and his life.  Other than his children getting older, his life hadn't changed much.  He was still mourning Diane, and Sydney felt that he would continue to do so for a long time to come.  When both she and Jack had assured him that they were in need of nothing and that they would come by for dinner that Friday, he left and Sydney felt, for the first time since she had come back, that there were parts of her life that might be salvageable.

Weiss and Marshall were next, dropping by one day in her second week out of custody, after her session with Barnett but while Jack was at the JTF filing paperwork, and provided Sydney with some much-needed levity.  She discovered that Marshall had continued dating Carrie and that, much to Marshall's surprise and delight, _Carrie_ had proposed to _him_ just a couple months before.  Sydney didn't attempt to hide her smile when Marshall quoted Carrie's reasoning that, "I knew if I waited for him, I'd have to pull an oxygen tank down the aisle."  And she even laughed out loud at Marshall's explanation of the quote, "Because, you know… she'd thought that we'd be so old that… well, you know how old people have trouble breathing?  Well… she didn't want to wait until we were that old."

Although Weiss joined in Sydney's laughter at Marshall's antics, and added a few one-liners and Kendall-barbs of his own, she couldn't help but notice that his eyes surveyed her with concern.  When he stayed behind after Marshall left, she knew what he wanted to discuss.  Vaughn's continued deep-cover assignment haunted her more than most people realized.  She knew he couldn't contact her, but that knowledge didn't make the loss any easier to stomach.

"How are you, really?" Weiss had asked her, more seriously than she had ever heard him speak.

"I miss him," she replied honestly.  "Have you heard anything from him since I left?"

Weiss had read Sydney's statement, and knew that she was _fully_ aware of the nature of Vaughn's current assignment.  He knew that it had to be killing her… and Vaughn.  He wanted to do anything he could, but…

"Sydney, you know that all those deep-cover assignments are run out of one office in Langley, right?  I haven't heard or seen anything of Mike since he left… not that I saw or heard much of him before he left."  Weiss stood up from his place in Jack's armchair and paced the carpet in front of the sofa where Sydney sat.   

He turned and looked at her nervously, "I… I feel like I need to apologize to you, Sydney, for not believing… for not helping Mike more in his search for you… and for letting him take this horrible assignment.  I should have stopped him from going.  You were dead and I was his best friend, but I didn't know how to help him.  Now you're back and he's…"

"Eric," Sydney softly interrupted him, "It's all right."  She stood and walked over to him, setting a hand on his arm to calm his pacing, "There's nothing to be sorry about.  You acted like a good friend would, trying to help your friend grieve and move on with his life.  You didn't suggest the mission, and even if you did, I wouldn't hold it against you.  I'm not holding it against him."

"You're not?" Weiss asked, his eyes widening slightly in shock.  

Sydney nodded solemnly, "None of us were in his situation, and we don't know how we'd react if we were.  I can't judge him.  I don't want to judge him.  I love him." 

"And he knows this?" Weiss questioned excitedly, his shocked expression melted into one of joy.

At Sydney's wide smile of assent, Eric lifted her into a bear hug, "Oh, Syd!  That's the best news I've heard in years!"

She agreed through her laughter as he set her back on the ground.  "Now I just need him to come home.  Do you think anyone we know could find out when that might happen?"

Weiss quickly resumed his subdued demeanor, making Sydney wonder how Vaughn's leaving had affected _him_ before he promised, "I don't know, Sydney, but I will do everything in my power to find out for you, alright?"  He raised his hand and gave her a soft knock under the chin and a wink, "I'll do whatever I can to take care of my best friend's girl while he's gone."

Sydney had given Eric another quick hug and then said goodbye, a small smile playing on her lips for hours after he left.

Strangely enough, the one person who Sydney had expected to see almost the moment she stepped off of the plane did not show up until the end of her first month at home.  She'd asked both Weiss and Dixon for his whereabouts, but the only answer they gave was that he had been transferred, but had been notified of her return.  Just when Sydney was about to go bust down the CIA's door to find him, he turned up on her doorstep.

"Will!" Sydney's response flew out of her lips when she swung back the door.  His hair was longer and darker, but he wore business clothes that she swore he wouldn't have been caught dead in before.  "Come in, please.  How are you?"

He looked at her, and she could tell that he was extremely uncomfortable, which was rapidly making her extremely uncomfortable.  Sydney tried her best to be a proper hostess, "Will, please just come inside.  I'll make some coffee, okay?"

Will didn't reply, but he stepped up into the entryway, his face just inches from hers.  He tentatively raised a finger, delicately tracing her jawline before pushing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.  Sydney didn't move, too unsure of what was going on, until his eyes met hers in a piercing stare and held them as he spoke softly, "It's really you."

Sydney wasn't sure if his words were a question or a statement, so she just nodded.  He slowly moved his hand over her shoulder and gently pulled her to him.  "I'm glad," was all he said before moving into the kitchen, leaving Sydney standing, bewildered, at the door.

The rest of their conversation was just as confusing.  Will had been transferred to Chicago, at his request, just after Vaughn left.  Sydney tried to get him to talk about why he left, but he only answered that he needed a change.  He said he wasn't married and hadn't dated anyone seriously, which worried her.  He'd always been so resilient in the past, and even with the situation with Francie, Sydney had expected Will to recover, but he clearly hadn't.

What was most distressing for Sydney was that Will didn't appear interested in renewing old bonds.  Once she had cleared up the mystery of her disappearance and explained where she had been, he seemed satisfied.  He had nothing left of the old curiosity that was formerly his defining trademark, and none of the concern for her which had always been so apparent.  All in all… this person was nothing like the Will she knew, loved, and who had been her closest friend.  This was a hollow shell of that person, and Sydney had no idea how to respond to that. 

He only stayed an hour… an hour that was strained as it was.  When they said goodbye, Sydney knew that she would not be seeing him again anytime soon, unless it was of her initiation.  He no longer wanted her friendship, so she hugged him, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and let him go.

There were several more days of relative quiet, with Weiss stopping by every afternoon as he had begun doing.  He gave her updates on how he tried to find information on Vaughn, always to no avail.  They usually watched a little television together while he helped her make dinner, and he often stayed to eat with her and Jack.  

Sydney was impressed by how seriously Eric was taking his promise to watch out for her, and by how friendly he and her father had become.  The less stoic Jack got along quite well with the more somber Weiss, and they were able to carry on long conversations on topics ranging from Eric's work to how the Lakers' draft picks were looking.

About a week after Will's visit, Jack had just retired for the night, leaving Eric and Sydney in the living room alone.  Sydney was sitting calmly in Jack's armchair reading a new novel she had picked up at the bookstore that afternoon.  Eric was slouched on the sofa, flipping through the channels, making random comments on the shoddy abilities of infomercial actors to perform simple household tasks, such as draining pasta.

When he realized that Sydney was too engrossed in her book to laugh at his jokes, he heaved a sigh, switched the television off and tossed the remote on the couch cushion.  Sydney just glanced up at him with a quick smile before returning her gaze to the page in front of her, "Done for the night?"

"Yep," Eric answered, pulling himself up from the sofa and stretching.  "You up for catching a movie tomorrow night?  I'm dying to see the new Charlie's Angels movie," he grinned.

Sydney just raised an eyebrow, keeping her eyes fastened on her book, "Sure, we'll go watch half-naked women running around shooting at each other.  Should be educational."

Weiss walked over to Sydney's chair, leaned down, and smacked a loud kiss onto her hair.  "You mock," he said sweetly, "but I know you love."

"Of course I do," she answered as he walked to the door.  "Goodnight!"

Eric chuckled softly as he turned back with his hand on the doorknob, "'Night, Syd."

He grabbed his jacket off of the coatrack and swung the door open only to find someone standing behind it, hand raised to knock.  Before Eric had a second to respond, the visitor's eyes had moved past him to Sydney's form, still curled up on the armchair, but eyes now fully engaged with the man at her door.  

She stared at him, body frozen, eyes wide, for several seconds until with a gruff grunt, he stumbled into the house, across the living room, and fell to his knees before her, laying his head in her lap.

-------

A/N:  Much love goes from me to all my loyal readers & reviewers!  As you can tell, this fic is winding down, but the encouragement I've gotten here has convinced me to continue writing.  I can't tell you how much your support means to me.  Thanks, everyone!


	24. At Last

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – AT LAST

Sydney couldn't have been more shocked.  Michael Vaughn was sobbing onto her legs, hands locked in a vice-grip around her waist, breathing her name over and over as if in a chant.

She had tears running down her face in droves before she fully comprehended what had happened.  She lightly ran her hands over his hair, barely touching him, deathly afraid that this wasn't real.  One look up at Eric's shocked face told her that he was taking in the same scene, if not the same emotions.

Eventually, Vaughn pulled his head up, and Sydney immediately placed both hands on his face, losing herself in the eyes she had longed for every day of two years.  She didn't know whether to laugh or cry or just kiss him.  He made the decision for her.  His hands on her waist pulled her off the chair, her book dropping with a soft thud on the carpet, until they were both kneeling, face to face, just breathing each other in.

He slid both his hands from her waist up to where her slender neck met her shoulders, pulling her towards him so slowly that Sydney wasn't entirely sure she was moving.  When his lips finally touched hers, her world came back to life, the intensity of his need causing her to inhale sharply through her nose.  She needed to feel him… to make sure that it was really her Vaughn, in living flesh and blood, here in front of her.  Her hands slid up from his stomach, over his tensed chest and shoulders and to the back of his head, her arms tightening around his neck, closing any remaining distance between them.  Their mouths were pulling at each other over and over, tongues lightly tasting with each kiss.

When she felt his hands move back down to her waist, Sydney released Vaughn's head, but their heated lips kept contact as her soft touch traveled over his shoulders and down his arms.  She squeezed his biceps lightly, remembering exactly how she had always felt protected in those arms, then slid her hands down to his forearms, and squeezed again.  This time, however, the pressure she applied caused him to gasp, breaking their kiss.

When Sydney looked into his face, concerned and confused, Vaughn ignored his own outburst, but took the opportunity to confirm softly,

"You waited?"  His eyes were full of hope as she smiled, nodded, and kissed him lightly again.

"I told you I would," she reminded him, before pulling back and looking down at his arms, "You're hurt."

Before Vaughn could answer, a rustling from the hallway grabbed both their attentions.  They had been too caught up in each other to notice that Weiss had shut the front door, left the room, and gone to wake Jack.  Now the two men were standing uncomfortably in the corner of the living room, Jack staring at Vaughn in bewilderment and Eric focused on a spot on the ceiling.

Sydney began to stand, helping Vaughn when she realized that his arms weren't the only part of him that caused him pain.  Jack noticed, too.

"Are you alright, Michael?" Jack asked him as he walked over to help Sydney place him on the sofa.  

Sydney was slightly shocked at her father's use of Vaughn's first name.  _They really must have gotten closer while I was gone._  She was even more surprised when Vaughn answered in kind.

"I'll be fine, Jack," he turned his gaze to Sydney and emphasized, "I'm fine.  These wounds are almost a month old.  They just get a little sore when pressure is applied."  He sighed softly as Sydney sat down next to him on the sofa, lightly running one hand over his forearm where she had squeezed him a few moments earlier.  Weiss moved to the chair Sydney had vacated and Jack stood next to where Weiss sat… all three of them were staring at him.

He knew that they were waiting for him to explain what had happened, but he didn't want to mar this moment with thoughts of his recent ordeal.  He was finally here with his best friend, the man who he hoped would someday be his father-in-law, and the woman he loved, but he knew that none of them would rest until they understood.

So, he relieved them of their curiosity.  Vaughn told them the story of his confrontation with En Kai and subsequent torture.  He kept a firm grip on Sydney's hand as he explained who had rescued him and how he escaped.  He tried to keep his anger in check when he explained how his standard debrief in D.C. suddenly became an investigation when the FBI discovered how he had blown his own cover with Jie.

Jack began pacing, clearly furious, when Vaughn described how the FBI had not even waited until his injuries from En Kai had healed before beginning their own interrogations.  Vaughn had been completely honest with his government, hoping that they would do all they could to assist their own agent.  Instead, it took them two weeks of "debriefing" before they believed him, and then all they would say about the deal he had struck with Jie was that he had no authority to bind the CIA in a promise not to pursue En Kai.

When he was finished, they all sat in silence.  Sydney was clinging to Vaughn, still overwhelmed by the horrible situations he had endured.  Jack's face was hard and he clenched his hands violently at his sides as he paced the small living room.

Finally, it was Weiss who brought everyone out of their thoughts.  He stood, walking to stand in front of the coffee table and held out his hand.  "Welcome back, buddy.  We've all missed you."

Vaughn's face finally relaxed into a smile as he accepted his friend's hand and used it to stand, first giving Weiss a firm handshake, then pulling him into a tight, back-slapping hug.  "I missed you, too, man," he choked out before breaking the hug and reaching back for Sydney.

There was a little more conversation and plans were made to meet and discuss everything further in the morning.  Jack went back to bed and Weiss went home, leaving Vaughn and Sydney alone together in the living room.

Suddenly, there was an awkwardness between them they hadn't felt amidst the euphoria of first seeing each other.  They sat on the sofa quietly, each feeling thankful that the other was there, but not knowing what to do about it.  Sydney flirted with the idea of telling Vaughn about what she had discovered about her own torture experience, but decided against it.  _That is a conversation… a big one… for another time._

Slowly, she resumed running her fingers lightly over Vaughn's injured forearm.  He studied her face while she continued touching him in a trancelike state.  When he moved his other hand to still hers, Sydney returned his gaze with tear-filled eyes.  He lifted his hand and softly pulled the end of her nose.  His familiar touch had the desired effect.  She smiled a real, full, Sydney Bristow smile, which he couldn't help but return.  

He softly took a handful of her silky brown hair that was hanging loose next to her face, and used it to pull her towards him again.  Their meeting this time was tender and slow, taking time to envelope themselves in each other's scent, taste, and touch.  When they reluctantly parted, Sydney closed her eyes, leaned her forehead on Vaughn's, and whispered, "Where are you staying?"

He grinned at her and answered, "I have a bag in my rental car in the driveway."  Vaughn stood, pulling Sydney with him, "Is it alright if I stay with you?"  She nodded, and he started walking towards the front door.  As he opened the door and took a step outside, Sydney's voice stopped him.

"Vaughn?"

He turned to see her still standing in front of the couch, a hesitant look on her face.  "What is it, Syd?"

"Are… are you married?"  She finally blurted out, eyes firmly planted on the floor.  

Vaughn crossed back to where she stood and took her fidgeting hands in his.  "No, I'm not," he answered firmly.  She raised her gaze to meet his as he continued, "The CIA made sure that Jie's petition for annulment went through Chinese channels in record time, although I'm not entirely sure that the marriage was legal in the U.S. to begin with."  

He studied her for a moment, hoping his answer was sufficient.  "Are we okay?"

Sydney nodded, fighting back a grin.  She kissed him quickly on the cheek, placed a hand on his chest, and pushed him back towards the door, "Go get your bag."

"And where are you going?" Vaughn asked with a smile as she slid past him and starting walking down the hallway.

She didn't even pause as she made her way to her bedroom door, "I'm going to clear out a drawer."

-------

A/N:  Love you!  Love you all!  Thanks for reading!!!


	25. Admissions

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – ADMISSIONS

When Vaughn returned from retrieving his bag, he bolted the front door and turned out the lights in the living room.  He moved toward the bedroom he had seen Sydney disappear into, noticing that the door was slightly ajar, sending a slim beam of low yellow light across the floor and up the wall.  He took a deep breath and silently pushed the door open, grateful it did not creak, not wanting to disturb the picture before him.

Sydney had lit several candles throughout the room and was standing with her back to him, staring out the window.  She had changed into sleepwear, a strappy white tank-top and loose-fitting medical scrub pants, and had her arms crossed in front of her chest, one hand absentmindedly running up and down her tricep.  

After soaking in the sight for a few moments, Vaughn noticed that Sydney's eyes had found him through his reflection in the darkened window.  "You cold?" he asked, dropping his bag and closing the door behind him, leaning against it and allowing himself to relish just being in the same room as her.

"No, I'm not cold," she answered, her bare feet padding along the carpet towards him, "I'm just feeling…"  She trailed off and he finished her thought for her and pulled her into his arms, "A little overwhelmed?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighed, resting her cheek against Vaughn's chest.  "So much has happened, and I don't know what to do or where to begin…."

"Then don't," he responded.  Vaughn pulled back enough to grab her chin and pull her into a delicate kiss.  Lovingly searching her face, he made the request he had been longing to make when he saw her in that cell in Hong Kong,

"Just let me hold you?"

Her eyes filled with tears again at his simple plea.  She pulled him toward the bed, stopping to allow him to remove his shoes & socks.  She stood facing him and one-by-one undid the buttons on his shirt, revealing his sleeveless undershirt.  She let him remove his own pants as she lay down on her bed.

A moment later, as she lay on her side staring at the flickering candle on her nightstand, Sydney felt him climb onto the bed behind her.  He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her back flush against his chest.  She reached down to where his hand was splayed across her stomach and covered his hand with hers, entwining their fingers.  She felt his chest press against her as he inhaled the scent of her hair.

"God, I've missed you," he breathed.

Sydney snuggled back as far into him as she could get and closed her eyes.  "Me too, Vaughn," she answered as her lips curved into a truly contented smile and she drifted off to sleep.

--------

Sydney blinked her eyes open the next morning and smiled.  Sometime during the night she had shifted in her sleep, and the first thing she saw upon waking was the side of Michael Vaughn's neck.  She was huddled tight to him with her head resting on his shoulder and her arms immobilized between them.  His arms that were wrapped around her body tightened, drawing her closer, in reaction to the tickle of her deeper breathing on his skin.

She immediately stilled, trying to keep from waking him, but it was too late.  He inhaled deeply and sighed into her hair, breathing his greeting, "Good morning."  She nuzzled further into his neck, delighting in the rough feel of his stubble-beard against her sensitive morning skin.  

"I think they may have to amputate my arm from the lack of circulation," he joked softly.  Sydney immediately tried to pull back from her position, afraid of hurting him, but his arms held her firmly in place.  "But I love it.  I want to wake up just like this every morning."

She relaxed back into him, trying to keep the tears from coming again.  _I can't believe how much I've been crying lately.  I feel like such a freak, she thought, even though she knew that she had every reason to be emotional.  _He's here… we're together, finally… why can't I relax and just feel happy?_  _

But Sydney knew there was one thing left to do.  She had to tell Vaughn the story of her missing two years.  How would he take it, knowing that even after she had escaped and recovered that she chose to pursue Sloane instead of him?  Would he understand that she did it for them, so that they would be safe together?  _Admit it, __Sydney__, she admonished herself, __you're scared._

"Vaughn?" she whispered, taking a shuddering breath.

"What's wrong, Syd?" he questioned her in response, concern filling his voice as he adjusted so he could look at her face.  "Are you okay?"

"Yes?  Well, I… I'm not sure.  I have to…" Sydney stuttered, sitting up on the bed, "You need to know.  There's something you need to see before anything else happens."  She crawled off the bed and across the room to her dresser.

Vaughn watched as Sydney opened a drawer and started digging through her lingerie, finally pulling out a thick stack of folded papers.  He hadn't expected this kind of morning.  Despite his exhaustion, Vaughn had stayed awake long after Sydney had fallen asleep.  He had let the moment wash over him, being with the woman he loved after everything.

They were home.  They were together.  Things were finally perfect, but she apparently didn't think so.  What could she possibly have to show him that was so important?  Sydney crossed back to the bed, stopping at the edge.  She hesitated before handing the pages to him, "You need to read this."

He held the papers gingerly, noticing that they were full of flowing handwriting… a woman's handwriting.  "What is this?"

A pained look crossed her face as she answered him, "Please, just read all of it.  I… I'll be in the shower."  She didn't give him a chance to object before almost running out of the room, into the tiny bathroom, and shutting the door.

Vaughn was debating whether or not he should follow her, until he heard the sound of the shower spray turning on.  He turned his attention back to the pages in his hand and decided to comply with Sydney's wishes.

-------

Sydney was in the shower sobbing, the hot water running over her face masking her tears.  She never thought that she could do anything that Vaughn might not forgive her for, but this might be it.  She had let her need for revenge keep her from him.  He had almost killed himself looking for her, and when she had the chance to run to him, she chose to stay with her mother and Sark.

Suddenly, her guilt turned to panic.  Her eyes shot open and she wanted to run, sopping wet, back into the bedroom and rip the letter from his hands before he had a chance to discover what she had done.  It wasn't too late.  He didn't need to know.  It wasn't important.

But, she soon realized that wouldn't work.  Weiss knew.  The CIA knew.  Her father knew.  Most importantly, she knew, and she couldn't be with him while something so big was hanging over her.  He would want to know where she had been for two years and she couldn't lie to him.  

Taking a few deep breaths, Sydney quickly finished washing her hair and shut off the water.  She dried herself and slid into her robe.  Her hand paused on the doorknob, afraid to see his reaction, for he had certainly finished reading Irina's letter by now.  Slowly she pulled the door open and peered into the bedroom.  After a moment, she stepped into the room and scanned it again, praying that her eyes were deceiving her.

He was gone.

------

Vaughn had finished the letter in a fit of anger, pulled on his clothes and bolted.  He was walking fast, because his injuries still did not allow him to run, but without a destination.  He knew that Sydney had given him the letter to tell him her story… where she had been for two years.

But after all the pages of writing by her mother, only one line kept running through his mind.  _Sloane's__ torment of Sydney consisted of pictures of her funeral, her grave, and then finally, pictures of the man she loved… married to another woman.  The guilt Vaughn thought had been banished when Sydney forgave him had returned full-force, and he felt like he needed to vomit.  His stupid and reckless actions had been used to torture her.  He had provided Sloane with exactly the kind of ammunition he needed to abuse Sydney into submission.  If Irina hadn't gotten there…_

No wonder she didn't want to come back to him.  

-------

Sydney silently got dressed, cleaned up the bathroom, and made her bed.  She then went into the kitchen to get some coffee.  She refused to dwell on this.  She knew he would be upset.  It wasn't a surprise.  It was entirely her own doing.

After awhile Sydney heard the front door open, and turned quickly, the disappointment clear on her face when her father and Weiss walked in.  They came over to where she sat at the kitchen table and Weiss set down the breakfast coffee cake he had been carrying.  Her father immediately noticed Sydney's distress.

"Where's Vaughn?" he asked, "His car is still in the driveway."

"It is?" Sydney's surprised response came before she could check it.  That meant that he would be coming back.  She sighed in relief.

"Syd, what's going on?" Eric asked, "Mike's here, isn't he?"

Sydney looked down at her coffee cup and shook her head.  "He left," she whispered.  After pausing to ensure the stability of her voice, she explained that she had given him Irina's letter to read, and that when she returned, he was gone.  "He has every right to be angry.  I chose revenge over being with him.  Why wouldn't he be angry?  Why aren't you angry, Dad?"

Jack saw that his daughter was rapidly losing her grip on control, so he decided to tell her the truth, "Sydney, I was angry… angry with myself.  When I read that letter, all I could think of was that I had failed you.  I never thought for one second that you were to blame for anything.  None of what happened is your fault.  You did what you thought was right and now you are home, safe, with the people who love you."  He pulled her hand from the coffee cup and softly caressed it in his own.

Weiss listened to Jack's speech and then jumped in, "You dad's right, Syd.  Mike loves you.  I'm sure he feels the same way that Jack did.  He always felt it was his fault that you went missing… that he left you alone to be kidnapped.  I'm sure he isn't angry.  You'll see."

Suddenly, a look of realization came across Jack's face and he released his daughter's hand and stood.  "Eric, will you stay here with her for awhile?"  Weiss nodded, looking at Sydney's confused face.

"Where are you going, Dad?" she asked.

Sydney was too upset to argue when her father evaded her question.  "Don't worry about it, Sydney.  Just stay here with Eric.  I'll be back soon."  

---------

Jack found Vaughn exactly where he knew the younger man would be.  It was the same place he had found him on many other occasions in the months before he had gone to Hong Kong.  Walking up silently behind Vaughn's kneeling form, Jack wondered what they would do with this place now.  It was of no use to anyone anymore.

"Go away, Jack.  I don't want to talk about it."  Vaughn's strained voice came back towards him when he was just a few feet away from the flat, black headstone with the initials "S.B." on it.  Jack didn't stop walking until he was right next to his daughter's grave.  This man was second in importance to him; only Sydney meant more.  When she was missing, Vaughn was his only link to her, and his hopes for Sydney's future now always included Michael Vaughn.  He intended to get that future started for her right now.

"I can't help but wonder why you would come here, of all places, when you know this isn't her," Jack mused aloud, gesturing to the mound of green grass before him.  When he got no response, he continued, "She thinks you are angry with her."

That statement got Vaughn's attention, and his head snapped up from its hanging position, staring at the ground, and whipped around to face Jack.  "What?  Why?"

"She feels guilty for staying with her mother and Sark to track down Sloane instead of finding you.  She thinks you blame her for prolonging your time apart."  Jack watched Vaughn's expression turn from anger and exhaustion to one of pure anguish at the thought of causing Sydney in pain.  Jack continued, his only task at the moment to get the man in front of him back to his daughter.

"Michael, listen.  I know you feel guilty about this.  I know because I felt the same way.  I have realized something over the past month, though: None of this is our fault.  All of us are feeling guilty for what has occurred – you, me, Sydney, Irina, and even Weiss.  But none of us are responsible.  Sloane was.  We all handled it as best we could, and look… it worked.  She's home.  You're home.  We are all safe."

Vaughn nodded, keeping his eyes on Sydney's headstone as Jack continued, "If you keep worrying about your past actions, it will swallow you whole.  I don't want that for Sydney, and I don't want that for you.  You need each other right now."  He reached a hand out as Vaughn finally met his gaze, "She needs you, Michael."

Vaughn allowed himself to be pulled upright, and he and Jack exchanged a smile before beginning to walk towards the cemetery exit.  They walked without speaking back to the house.  When they reached the front step, Jack pulled out his keys and handed them to Vaughn.  Michael looked quizzically from the keys, to Jack's face, then back again.

"I don't need them anymore," Jack explained, trying to hide the smile that threatened to overtake his lips.  "I hadn't planned on staying here any longer than it took for you to get back to L.A.  I found a small apartment this morning that I can move into immediately."

At Vaughn's astonished face, Jack just opened the front door and went inside, leaving the younger man on the threshold staring at the pieces of metal in his hand.

--------

_TBC_

A/N:  Next chapter will be the last.  Thanks, everybody!  I'm so blessed to have had such terrific readers & reviewers for my first fic.  Thank you is not enough to express how appreciative I am.


	26. Realizzata

A/N:  This Chapter is **RATED R.  Please do not read if you are under-age.  An NC-17 version is posted at SD-1 & AliasUncovered.  A huge Thank You to all my readers & especially my reviewers.  You all have made my first writing experience an unbelievable one, and after a short break, I'm certain that I'll be back for more.  Please enjoy!**

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – REALIZZATA

When Jack entered the house, Sydney was sitting on the couch with Weiss, resting on him while his arm lay around her shoulders.  Eric had been trying to comfort his friend and coerce her into a nap, but when Sydney stopped responding to him, it was Weiss who had fallen asleep, head flopped back onto the top of the sofa.  Sydney leaned into the embrace.  Her head was on Weiss's shoulder, but her mind was focused only on one person… one set of arms.

When her father strode in with a smile threatening to overtake his features, Sydney's entire body jolted, instantly waking her sleeping companion.  She stood, waiting for Jack to explain why Vaughn wasn't with him.  Instead her father looked to Eric, conveying without words what should take place.

After a quick squeeze of her hand, Weiss was gone, and Jack looked poised to follow.  Before he left, he handed Sydney a small piece of paper with a strange address.  "You can find me here when you need me," he explained quietly.  "Take your time.  You have my cell number."  Before Sydney could object or question, Jack had hugged her and walked out, leaving the front door open and a bewildered daughter in the living room.

When Sydney looked up, she found herself in the same scene from the night before… eyes locked with her lost love as he stared into her house from the front stoop.   They stood frozen, too afraid to move, until Sydney broke their link by looking away. "You came back," she whispered into the deadened air.

Her words compelled him towards her, "How could you think that I wouldn't?"

Sydney was studying her hands clasping the crumpled note when she admitted her transgression to him in a gasp, "Because I didn't."  Sydney's breathing became very shallow and her eyes were flitting around the room, resting everywhere but on the man standing less than a foot from her.  "Vaughn… I know that…"

Vaughn didn't allow her to begin the speech she had planned, silencing her with two fingers softly pressed to her lips and a hand on her shoulder.  Startled and confused, Sydney chanced a look at his tightly closed eyes and shaking head.

"No…" He commanded evenly, his eyes opening to hold her gaze unabashedly, "No, Sydney, you don't know.  I don't want to hear any apologies or regrets from you, just like I'm sure you don't want to hear them from me.  It's in the past, and if all this has taught me anything, it's that I only need to be concerned about Right Now."

Vaughn moved his fingers from her lips and began running his hand so lightly over her nose, forehead, and cheeks that Sydney had to close her eyes to feel it.  He leaned in closer, so his lips were touching hers in that same, softer-than-a-feather way as he spoke, "Right now all I care about is you."

Sydney's breath caught in a small gasp before his lips took hers completely.  Vaughn pulled her close and Sydney's hands pressed flat on his stomach for support as relief washed over her, nearly causing her knees to give out.  But Vaughn anticipated her problem, and had moved his hands to grip her at the waist, stabilizing them, allowing Sydney to give in to him completely.  Her body sculpted itself to his and her arms coiled around his neck as they each attempted to fill themselves by consuming the other.

Vaughn began to slow their kiss and then languorously pulled away and resumed his searching gaze, trying to determine if she had understood his meaning.  He wasn't angry with her, and frankly, he didn't care about any of it as long as she wanted him now.  He gave her a soft smile, which she returned before leaning in towards his ear and secretly whispering, "You left the door open."

He embraced her tightly, feeling truly himself for the first time in years.  He had to consciously force himself to release her.  With a sideways grin on his face, Vaughn took a step back, set the keys he pulled from his pocket on the counter, and went to go secure the front door.  Sydney stood, transfixed by his movements until he turned and she blushed, embarrassed at having been caught staring.

She blinked and began moving toward the kitchen, wondering what to do next.  She noticed the keys that Vaughn had been carrying.  They were her father's keys to their house.  Sydney looked down at the small paper, now crumpled and slightly damp from her palms.  _Why did he give me this?  She looked back and forth between the address and the house keys for a few seconds before a shocking idea began to creep into her mind._

Sydney felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.  "What are you looking at?" he asked softly, his lips brushing her ear.  She had to push her body's reaction to him out of her mind to answer his question, "An address Dad gave me.  Why do you have his keys?"

She could feel Vaughn's smile even before she turned in their embrace to face him.  His joy was infectious, and Sydney couldn't help smiling as she asked, "What?"  Vaughn just shook his head in amazement, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Sydney's mind was racing.  "He… he left?" she spoke the realization out loud, looking to Vaughn for confirmation.  He nodded for her and continued, "He gave me his keys, saying he wouldn't need them anymore.  I guess he assumed that I would…"  Vaughn was grinning again at Sydney's astonishment.

"What went on between the two of you while I was gone?" she asked, not realizing the enormity of her question.  Vaughn's smile faded as he contemplated how to answer her.  Jack had taken care of him completely after Sydney's disappearance.  Everyone had treated Vaughn as if he and Sydney had been married, including Jack.  However, defining the relationship between the two men would have taken more time and psychological insight than Vaughn possessed.

So, he simply chose to gloss over her question, answering honestly, "Syd, your father is a good man.  He loves you and wants to see you happy, and he knows that I love you and will do everything I can to make your life the best it can be… starting right now." 

Vaughn used his body to pin Sydney to the kitchen counter while his mouth found hers again.  Their kisses started soft, but quickly transformed into something deeper, stronger, and more passionate.  For the first time in over two years, they were truly alone together, their bodies provoking and responding as if they had never been apart.

When their need had become almost too much to bear, Sydney pushed against Vaughn's arms, causing him to pull back.  Without speaking, Sydney grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway to her bedroom, stealing quick glances over her shoulder at his blissful face.  It was only when they were safely locked in the small room, with the yellow light of mid-day filtering through the gauzy curtains, that Vaughn dared to break their quiet.

"Sydney, I love you, and I want this more than I can say, but if it's too soon…"  

This time it was Sydney who silenced Vaughn with a soft finger to his mouth.  She quickly replaced it with her lips before answering him softly, "No, it's not too soon.  Vaughn, I love you so much.  I need you – all of you – now, more than ever.  If anything, it has been too long."

With her declaration, Vaughn could no longer fight the urge that had possessed him.  In no time, his hands were back on her, roaming the landscape of her body, finding every nuance and curve that was craving his touch.  In one rapid movement, he lifted her shirt off and tossed it across the room.  His hands then resumed their previous path, over and around her thin, satin bra, giving rise to shivers and small goosebumps on her smooth skin.

Sydney could feel herself rapidly losing focus, her only thoughts were of touching him as he was touching her.  Her hands had found their way under his tee-shirt and undershirt, and after a short struggle, lifted both over his head.  She quickly razed her fingernails down his chest and over his abs, causing the taut muscles to pulse slightly from the sensation.  

When her fingers paused on the buttons to his jeans, their eyes locked.  She carefully unfastened the buttons, slid the material to the floor, and helped him step out of the pant legs.  When she stood again, he repeated the action on her, leaving them standing, face to face, nothing between them but some thin cotton and scraps of satin.

Vaughn placed his hands on either side of Sydney's slim waist and pulled her against him.  He relished the feel of her breasts pressed flush against his chest as he began pushing against her, leading her toward the bed.  He tightened his grip and she let out a soft gasp as Vaughn, almost effortlessly, lifted Sydney a few inches off the floor and carried her the few remaining steps to the edge of the bed.  He gently lowered her onto the mattress, his body above hers, but skin just touching for a moment before he backed away, kneeling at the end of the bed.

Sydney's face flushed as she felt his gaze on her, a warm tingle running from her toes to her center, and spreading up to her chest, neck, and face.  She could hear his shallow breaths, but could not meet his eyes until he spoke, 

"You are perfection."  His voice was thick with emotion, and Sydney felt her own eyes begin to cloud.  All she could do in response was to lift a hand, fingertips stretching to touch him.  He instantly heeded her call, moving so he was kneeling between her ankles.  

Sydney's breathing had become shallow and erratic, and she wedged her fingers into his hair, exhaling the only word on her mind,

"Michael…"

The sound of his given name, so rarely heard from her lips, spurred him upward, attacking her delicate neck with a ferocity like nothing Sydney remembered experiencing.  She rained soft kisses randomly upon his forehead and hair until he raised his head to hers.  Leaning on his forearms, Vaughn lay between Sydney's raised knees, his torso covering hers.  

Their gazes met, a mix of adoration, longing, and desire.  Sydney's ability to breathe left her entirely.  They had come through so much, overcoming every obstacle that could have been thrown their way, and triumphed.  This man, with half-lidded eyes gazing at her with veneration and a tousled head of dark blond hair, was _hers_.  The effect of that realization was overwhelming, and Sydney once again had to fight back tears.

Vaughn saw her reaction, fully mirroring every sensation he saw.  He simply met her watery eyes, nodding in understanding before beginning his rain of feather-soft kisses over her face, eyelids, and lips.  When she said his name again, turning her head and breathing it softly into his ear, Vaughn knew she was ready.

-------

When they were both sated and exhausted, Vaughn laid down next to Sydney, who was still trying to regain a normal breathing pattern and heartbeat.  She turned her head to find him staring at her, a peaceful expression gracing his features.  Sydney raised her trembling hand to stroke his cheek, and Vaughn used what strength he had left to reach out and pull her to him.

"Promise me…" He whispered with a shaking voice into her hair, "Promise me that you will never leave me again."

Sydney pulled back just far enough to look Vaughn straight in the eye.  With a tone that revealed a strength that only returned with her touchstone, she assured him of her every intention.

"Never.  I promise.  I couldn't even if I tried."

-------

_Fine_


End file.
